A Love Story
by Kathy Heart
Summary: Sherlock Holmes met his match in Molly Hooper three years ago, and finally discovers that he is fighting a losing battle to not fall in love. But both Molly and Sherlock have their secrets, that come slinking from their past one by one. Will their relationship survive? TW: Abuse, Self Harm, Drug Use
1. Introduction

There are many that would call this story dull. There is no sex, nor is there copious amounts of alcohol, raves, or general flim flammary. You see, Sherlock Holmes was not that kind of man, nor was Molly Hooper that sort of woman.

They had lived lives separately for three years, but it was on a cold holiday evening that what we shall simply call A Love Story began.

For deep within the depths of the morgue…Sherlock Holmes had met his match.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Sherlock was in a towering temper when he entered the morgue, teeth gritted. He had just gotten into a massive argument with John, who had recently returned from his honeymoon, and was now living in a flat 20 minutes from 221B with his wife Mary. The fight had ended with John shouting "You'll understand when you find the person who means EVERYTHING Sherlock!" and then he had left. Sherlock sighed, taking a deep breath to calm himself, and calling "Molly?"

Molly let out a squeak nearly dropping the glass test tube she was holding. She often finds herself going into her own little word, when she's stuck down here by herself. Dead people aren't the best conversationalists. Placing the test tube on the work bench in front of her, she turned towards the voice, "Sherlock? What are you doing here?"

"I left my riding crop and some of my notes. Have you seen them?" he asked, reigning in his temper.

"I-uh..." Molly moved towards the other work station across the room. Rifling through the mass of papers that were scattered on the desk, she held up two pieces with what looked to be Sherlock's scribbled notes, "These might be them Sherlock. I haven't seen your riding crop though, sorry." She peered at him noticing his red face, "Are you okay? Has something happened?"

He took his notes, and then looked at her, hesitated, and then said in a clinical voice "Will you ever marry, Molly?"

Molly froze. _What? Where on Earth did that come from? _"Uh-I-I don't know. I suppose everyone does at some point don't they?," Molly looked at his face and smiled, "Well almost everyone. I did have this dream when I was younger, of marrying a nice man before I turned thirty maybe have a couple of kids." But that vanished as soon as I met you, she wanted to add.

He nodded, looking thoughtful "Ah. I see" He was scrutinizing her, looking her over curiously, as though contemplating something.

She fidgeted under his gaze, looking back at the area where she was previously running some tests she turned back to Sherlock, "Is there anything else I can do for you?" Moving to get her ID, she put it around her neck, "I could help you look for your riding crop, you know, if it's urgent."

"It's not...urgent" he said slowly, continuing his careful examination of her "I don't have any fresh cases." he paused. "Coffee, Molly?"

"Oh right-yes, 2 sugars, black isn't it?" She shook her head and waved him off, "I remember." Molly began to head towards the door of the morgue.

"No, Molly wait!" he said quickly "I meant...would you like to go get coffee WITH me. Not for me." he looked at her flatly "you know...when you get off work? Or if you've got a break now?"

She stopped just before she reached the door and spun around slowly, "Coffee. With you?" Butterflies suddenly came to her stomach and she felt like a school girl again. Coffee, _with_ Sherlock? "I-you...want to have coffee with me? But you never want to have coffee with anyone except John."

"Well...if I can want to have coffee with someone who can be remarkably annoying at times, why wouldn't I want to have coffee with someone who is consistently both kind and fascinating?"

Was that a compliment? "Um, thank-you...I think." Molly smiled, "Okay, come on then. I have an hour break starting from," She glanced at her wrist watch and frowned, "twenty minutes ago.."

"Let's go" he said, taking her arm and giving it a gentle tug as he headed toward the door.

As he walked out of the hospital beside her, he reflected on what he had just done. John would surely classify this as a "date", but Sherlock did not know what this meant or where it was going. He just knew that he very much liked the feel of Molly walking so close to him that their arms kept brushing.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

To Molly, it was like what they say happens in films, the love films that she watches every Saturday night curled up on the settee with her faithful cat, Toby. The spark, that jolt of electricity, it happened as soon as Sherlock touched her arm. Molly shook herself, she couldn't think like that. This wasn't going anywhere. Sure if anybody else had asked her for "coffee" it would be a date. With Sherlock? Hell would freeze over before he would go on a date, let alone with her.

He opened the door of the hospital, holding it for her. It was chilly and drizzling outside, but try as Sherlock might, he couldn't catch a cab. "It's just a couple blocks over. Mind if we walk?" he asked her in his usual measured tone.

As soon as she stepped out of the hospital Molly grumbled to herself, wrapping her lab coat around her, she wished she'd brought her coat with her. She looked up at Sherlock, squinting her eyes in an attempt to shield them from the drizzle, "Yeah, no problem." They walked a few steps, then Sherlock sighed, pulling one arm out of the sleeve of his coat, and wrapping it around her. He put the arm around her waist "Better?" he asked, avoiding her eye.

Her body went stiff, she tried to brush it off as a gentlemanly act but this was Sherlock for Christ sake. Molly grabbed the cuff of his coat. It was much warmer, she had to admit that, and it did keep the chill from going down the back of her neck. What she didn't want to admit was that it felt nice, felt right to have Sherlock coat around her with his arm in company of it. Feeling brave Molly snaked her arm around his narrow waist, "Yes, thanks" She said quietly.

As they walked down the street, Sherlock felt a battle raging within himself. There was a side of him that was struggling to stay pragmatic and cold, but another part that he had always hidden away that was very fond of Molly, that loved the way it felt to have his arm around her. He mentally shook himself. They arrived at the cafe soon enough.

"It's a nice little place" he held the door open for her, a blast of warm coffee scented air hitting them as he did. Molly took herself out of Sherlock's warm embrace and entered the cafe with a hum of approval, "It looks so cozy in here, I love this time of year." Molly stated, looking around the place.

He smiled, unnoticed, looking at the happy expression on her face. He smoothed his face out into its usual calm look of concentration as he sat down at a booth, looking at her carefully. "Tea, one sugar, isn't that right?" he asked.

She sat the across from him and nodded, still looking around the room in a daze of sorts. It looked so homely, nice and warm, she rubbed her hands together trying to get the warmth back into them, "Yes, thank you Sherlock."

He ordered their drinks, and soon the coffee and tea was sitting in front of them. He sipped his coffee, paused, and then said "Molly, what made you decide to be a pathologist?" he mentally kicked himself. Not the most romantic question in the world.

It was something she had thought long and hard about all the time, she was surprised when Sherlock came out with the question, "Shouldn't you already know this?" Molly giggled took a sip of her tea feeling the hot liquid work its magic, "My mother," She replied quickly as it came, the smile on her face disappeared, "When I learnt of my mum's death, I always thought 'who was there to take care of her?' you know," she swallowed, "after-after what happened. I guess I wanted to help look after people when their gone. Give them the care and attention that suddenly stops when you die..." Molly trailed off, looking at a very interesting spot on the table.

Sherlock hesitated for a fraction of a second, then his hand shot across the table, and took hers. he held one of her small hands in both of his own "I'm sorry" he said quietly "I didn't mean to...I mean..." he looked down "I'm sorry. But you take care of them, you know. I acknowledge, despite my use of the human body after it has died...I acknowledge that it was once a person who lived as you and I do now." he sighed "I apologize, that was morbid."

Molly furiously willed the tears that had developed in her eyes to go, she looked at their hands, both of hers covered by one of his, it was warm, heating her hands nicely. Normally she could talk about her mother, it didn't affect her the way it did when she was a young girl. Maybe it was the time of year, she always thought about her dad around this time too. She sniffled and gave him a smile, "It's fine. I don't know what came over me-sorry!" Molly pulled her hands away and made to get up, "I'm just going to the ladies"

"Oh...alright" said Sherlock, watching her go. As soon as she had entered the bathroom, he groaned in frustration, slumping over the table "I'm an idiot" he muttered. This was going horribly, and he knew it. He had wanted to have coffee with her, and there was no denying it now as a deep concern for her built in his chest. He definitely had feelings for Molly Hooper. He didn't know how to go about addressing that, but he knew he needed to cheer her up. So...he made a phone call. He dialed the hospital number, told them that he required Molly out in the field for a case. They agreed to let her off for the rest of the day, and he hung up, waiting for her to return.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"What is wrong with you?" Molly asked herself, staring at her reflection in the large mirror. She ran some cold water and splashed her face with it, careful not to get it all down her front. The cold sent a shock to her brain, shaking herself she grabbed some paper towels to dab her face with. After a call to nature, she washed her hands and headed back to the booth where Sherlock was sat. She stopped just outside the bathroom door, he had his head resting on his hands. Molly cringed, she'd offended him somehow, she knew she shouldn't have fled to the toilet. She made her way back to Sherlock.

Sherlock looked up as soon as he noticed her approach, a quick smile flashing across his face "You're mine for the rest of the day if you'd like" he said "I called in for you. They think you're on a case with me. I made a few other calls, so once we're done here, I have some ideas"

Molly slipped into her seat, picking up her now lukewarm tea, taking a big swig, "Yours-I mean, that sounds nice but," She looked down at herself, "I'm hardly dressed for a day out."

"I'll run you by your house then, if you'd like. Or...I'll just take you home for the day, if that's what you'd prefer" he said, considering that she may not even want to be around him.

"No, no," Molly rushed, "I'd like that, spending the day with you." She blushed and looked down thinking about what he'd said, it hit her, he wants to spend the day with her. Inside she was screaming, "I don't need to go home, just to Bart's to get my coat and bag."

"Where to?" he asked, after they'd finished and he'd paid. He did the same thing as before with the coat, slipping it around her, his arm around her waist.

Molly shivered as the cold air hit her when they stepped outside, but soon felt the warmth of Sherlock's coat and arm around her, doing the same as before she put her arm around him, "To my locker, my things are in there." She paused and looked at the bustling people around her, some out shopping, mother's battling with children. Her eye caught a couple sat on a bench in what looked to be a loving embrace and felt a twang in her heart. "Thank-you for the tea, by the way...It was lovely."

"No it wasn't" he said "Don't lie. But I'm going to make sure the rest of your day is perfectly lovely" he smiled down at her "Promise"

Molly smiled, never try to deceive the great Sherlock Holmes, "I have no doubt you will Sherlock," She started to rub her thumb in circles on his hip, "Can I ask what you have planned, or where we will be going after Bart's?"

"No, you cannot" he said firmly "But I'm sure you'll enjoy it" as they walked back into Bart's, there was quite a lot of staring. Sherlock didn't understand why until he realized that his arm was still around Molly's waist. He hesitated, almost withdrawing it, but then kept it there, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Okay." She smiled at him and continued to walk in the direction of Bart's. He hasn't moved. He hasn't gone all cold and...'Sherlock'. His arm is still perfectly around her waist. Molly nearly moved hers when they got to the entrance but if Sherlock was fine with showing this much affection in public then who was Molly to argue. _When did Sherlock learn to show affection? _She thought to herself. As they reached the locker room she shifted, "Sherlock, I'm going to need both arms,"

He released her at once, shrugging on his coat "I'll just ah...wait for a moment out there" he stepped back out of the locker room.

Molly gave him a shy smile and went to her private locker, using the key that was on her lanyard she quickly opened the steel container and got out her belonging. She slammed the door shut and slipped her coat on, slightly dejected that she wouldn't be able to share Sherlock's warmth any more. There was a clatter from inside the morgue, frowning she went to the joining door and opened it, "Mark?" Molly exclaimed seeing the young blonde haired intern stood beside an empty slab.

Sherlock looked up, moving forward to stand beside Molly "Are you read- Who's this?" his voice was suddenly cold and waspish.

"Sher-" Molly was about to introduce Mark to Sherlock, but she was cut off.

Mark advanced to Sherlock and held out his hand. Sherlock went to work, his eyes jumping over Mark's appearance; he was 5'11 at least, blonde hair, blue eyes, at least a day's worth of stubble surrounded the lower half of his face, small dog, gym rat, clearly over compensating for something, "Mark Richardson, pleasure to meet you Mr. Holmes. I'm Molly's boyfriend."

"What?! No," Molly's eyes nearly shot out of out her skull, "Mark what are you talking about?" She looked at Sherlock, almost silently trying to tell him not to believe Mark.

"Boyfriend, is it?" asked Sherlock, sneering slightly. "Well with the complexion of eggnog left sitting out over the course of several weeks, a stubble that could cut glass, your thinning hair and the veins sticking out of your arms, indicating clear steroid use, I would hardly say you deserve someone quite as incredible as Molly. I must ask that you leave now. Oh, also, that other girlfriend of yours is cheating on you with your dog's groomer"

Mark face paled slightly, he had heard that he was good but the dog groomer, seriously? "Who the hell do you think you are?" Mark hissed, moving forward to stand toe to toe with Sherlock. The little vein in his neck starting to throb, one of his fists clenched and un-clenched by his side.

Molly, having processed everything that came out of Sherlock's mouth at lightning speed felt slightly hurt and happy at the same time. It was very strange. Hurt at the fact that Mark had said nothing about this other girlfriend. The steroid use was a surprise to Molly too. On the other hand, Sherlock had paid her two compliments in one day, and the mini-me in her head did a little dance. Seeing Mark move to stand in Sherlock's personal space, she put a hand in his arm to stop him, only for him to shrug her off, a bit too rough.

And in that instant, the moment he saw Mark brush Molly off, something broke within Sherlock Holmes. His fist swung around, slamming into marks jaw, gut, and then slamming down with his heel on Mark's instep. He snarled down at him "You will not be seeing Molly ever again, do I make myself clear?" his voice was venomous, his face livid.

Mark didn't even see it coming. All of a sudden he was thrown back and his jaw hurt like hell. He tried to fight back, but Holmes was taller and quicker. He's sure he got one in on his eye though. Mark spit out the blood that was collecting in his mouth and it landed near Sherlock's shoe, "Crystal."

"Sherlock." Molly said quietly, "Sherlock, come on." She put a hand on his shoulder when he didn't budge, "Please?" Her voice was just a whisper and it wavered slightly.

He turned to face her, the anger flickering like fire in his eyes dying out at once at the sight of her face. He gathered Molly's possessions up for her, took her hand in his free one, and called to mark without looking back "If I ever seen your face again, you'll never be seen alive by anyone else" and the door shut behind him.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The look on Sherlock's face and in his eyes scared Molly, really scared her. She hadn't seen him like that before. It was as if a firework went off within him. As soon as they were out of her office she quickly realized that her breathing had got considerably faster. Oh god, she hasn't had one of these in ages, panic attacks were common in her childhood, coping with her father's death as a teenager. She pulled her hand out of Sherlock's and put it on her chest, her vision swayed sticking her other hand out she leant on the wall.

He dropped her coat and bag at once, leaning over slightly to help support her, he couldn't think what to do. Finally, he made a decision. He lifted her gently into his arms and slid into a sitting position against the wall, cradling her there, murmuring soft comforting words, trying to soothe her, understanding that he had caused this and feeling guilt settle heavily in his chest. He continued to whisper softly to her.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her feet leave the ground. Her chest was still tight, she had to get her breathing under control or she could pass out. Opening her eyes she looked straight at Sherlock, briefly surprised at how close their faces where, "I...need...you, to...help me," She managed to wheeze out a sentence.

"How?" he whispered "I'll do anything, how, tell me!" he said, his eyes scanning her face, looking anguished "Tell me, I'll do it!" He pulled her close in his arms, there alone in the empty hall outside the morgue, sitting on the ground with the woman he loved, yes there was the word, LOVED in his arms and all he wanted to do was help her but he didn't know how.

Molly swallowed, "Don't...squeeze me," She said pushing back on him, "I...need...you...to-" Molly let out a frustrated growl, she had a minute before she passed out, tops. She motioned for a phone.

He quickly pulled his out, handing it to her, slackening off the pressure a bit, looking at her in terror, feeling all his composure slipping away.

Molly quickly tapped a message into the phone 'I need you to help me even my breathing. I have at a minute tops before I…" She could not finish the message. She passed him the phone and bowed her head trying to get it between her knees.

"Okay...okay" he said softly, trying to think "Molly, Molly just take a few deep breaths okay? I'm going to talk, and every time I saw 'breathe', take a long slow breath. Alright?" He paused, rifling through his knowledge, before beginning in his soft, deep voice "It was many and many a year ago...breathe...in a kingdom by the sea...breathe...that a maiden there lived whom you may know...breathe...by the name of Annabelle Lee...breathe..." He let the poem flow off his tongue, his easy baritone softening the words, and he breathed with her, trying to calm her, he stroked her hair with his free hand.

Molly looked at him as he started talking, reciting some poem. She glanced down and put her hand on his chest, under his suit jacket and closed her eyes. She concentrated on his chest and his words the world seemed to drift away. It was just Sherlock and her, in a dingy corridor of St. Barts. Within thirty seconds her breathing was nearly back to normal and her vision and stopped swaying. The urge to cry began, she did her best to avoid it, crying in front of Sherlock Holmes twice in one day? Blimey she was pushing it.

"It's okay" he said softly, his voice in her ear "It's okay I'm right here I promise" Every single clinical part of Sherlock Holmes seemed to be gone, replaced by a kind albeit socially awkward genius who was holding onto Molly Hooper as though he would never let her go "It's alright to let go" he said gently

Molly wrapped her arms around his neck, her face pressed into his shoulder. The flood gates opened, two minutes, three minute had gone by, "I thought he-" She sobbed, "I thought he was going to hurt me, or worse, you." She sniffled. She went very quiet, "He has a bit of a temper though, even when he was just my intern, he didn't like it when I said he got something wrong about the body on the slab. Or-or a procedure he got wrong," she admitted in a whisper. She immediately brushed it off and laughed a little, "I've made your jacket all wet. Sorry," She said pulling back, wiping her eyes.

He brushed her tears away, his eyebrows furrowed "Molly...did he ever strike you?" he asked softly, his hand touching her cheek, his thumb brushing her tears away.

Molly leaned into his touched, as much as it was humiliating having an attack in front of Sherlock it was comforting to have him here, helping her. Her eyes suddenly found interest in the top two buttons on his shirt, "Sherlock I don't want to talk about it, please." She tried to say it in a way as if to not let him worry, she was very conscious of the fact that Mark still hadn't come out of her office.

Sherlock said quietly "He has, hasn't he?" he felt the anger tightening his chest, but kept his face smooth of it.

"Sherlock, please..." Her chin started to wobble again but managed to keep it at bay. She bowed her head as if to hide herself, "Just leave it, I don't want to talk about it." Her voice barely a whisper.

"Okay, I'll leave it for now" he said softly, trying to let his stubbornness go, but making a mental note to revisit this topic when she was a bit more stable "Listen, if you're ready we can go back to your flat if you'd like. I'll drop you off, or I'll stay if you wish." He was still playing with a bit of her hair.

Molly sagged in relief, she shifted her gaze back to his face, "Thank-you." She said softly, "I know you'll want me to talk and I will. Just, not right now. You can keep me company for a while-if-if you want to, I mean you'll have to put up with Toby. Or we could go to Baker Street?" Molly mentally cursed at her babbling.

"Wherever you want" he said gently, releasing her and helping her to her feet "I'm here for you. I promise."

And at that precise moment, his phone rang. He answered "Holmes"

He paused, his eyes narrowing "Triple murder?" He paused "No...no Lestrade I'm busy at the moment...yes I'm aware. Well that may be an 8 but I have a 10 on my hands...I said NO" he hung up, pocketed his phone, and turned back to Molly "Come on" he said, gently taking her hand.

Molly nearly protested but she didn't have the strength, she forgot how exhausting panic attacks could be. As Sherlock hung up the phone after being very blunt with the Detective Inspector, poor Greg. She turned to him, "You didn't have to do that you know, I know how much your cases mean to you." As they excited the building the temperature has dropped considerably, "If I'm not home before 8 o'clock, Mrs. Jackson next door takes Toby in her flat to watch him until I get back." Molly paused thinking about how she should say this, "I could, come to yours? For a while and then you can help Greg, I won't keep you from your work Sherlock."

"I'm not interested in working at the moment" said Sherlock firmly, squeezing her hand lightly and starting forward, leading the way out of the morgue hallway and toward the hospital exit "But we can certainly go to my home if it would please you"

Molly stopped walking suddenly, causing Sherlock to stop when her arm reached full stretch, "Thank you." She said, letting go of his hand she stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek lightly. It wasn't forced, just a simple brush of her lips. Molly pulled back and blushed, "I'd hate to imagine what would have happened if you weren't there when I saw Mark."

Sherlock was frozen in place, the spot where her lips had touched spreading a warm tingling sensation right down to his fingertips. He looked at her, a little confused. He took a moment to process what she had said "I promise I won't ever let him, or anyone else, hurt you"


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Molly smiled, but the look of peace didn't reach her eyes. Molly was expecting him to run off, suddenly having more courage, she put her hand in his and threaded her fingers with his. Seeing him still stationary she gave him hand a pull, "Come on," Molly coaxed, quietly.

Sherlock was still for a moment, then squeezed her hand lightly and stepped forward, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth "Let's head to Baker Street then"

The riot in Molly's head was deafening, question upon question running around. Why was Sherlock being so lovely? What was this, this "date" thing? The situation with Mark, the way Sherlock had defended her and flipped when Mark pushed her away. She didn't understand but she did hope that this wasn't some new experiment of his. Chewing her lip she looked straight ahead, maybe he would shut off when they got to Baker Street.

Sherlock shot a glance at molly as he hailed a cab. The rain was pounding now, so he held his coat over and around her as a cab pulled up. He held the door open for her, struggling to understand his feelings

"Thank-you," she mumbled. Molly moved to the window, watching the droplets slide down the glass. She heard Sherlock tell the cabbie the address, wiping some rain off her face she blew out a breath. What was she doing? Molly was normally a private person within a couple of hours she's told one of the most sensitive things to one of the insensitive person. She felt like a fool, having a full blown panic attack in front of Sherlock and then to burst out crying, she mentally shook her head. Molly appreciated that he help her, grateful in fact. It didn't stop her from feeling stupid, she started to wring her hands on her lap.

Sherlock noticed, hesitated, reached over, and gripped her hand, squeezing it tightly in his own and whispering "It's alright, I promise" the cab drove through the pounding rain, windshield wipers sliding rapidly back and forth across the windshield.

Molly pulled her hand away and turned to him, "What are we doing Sherlock?" she asked, moving some of her hair out of her face, "I refuse to be another experiment- if," Molly looked everywhere that wasn't Sherlock's face, "If that's what this is."

"What?" he exclaimed, turning fully to face her, his eyes wide and shocked "Molly what are you...of course you're not...I mean to say..." he spluttered, trying to articulate and failing, but he felt a deep sense of shock. He really had been horrible to her, he realized, to make her feel this way.

Molly watched him fall over his words, "You mean to say what?" She really didn't want to start crying again and have him saying something crude about it. Feeling the all too familiar lump return to her throat, she try to clear it, "If you're going to tell me that you're changed your mind, or-or that I am in fact an experiment then tell the driver stop the cab now."

"Stop the cab" he said, his voice sharp, his blue eyes fixed on her.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The cab ground to a stop.

She closed her eyes. Molly knew she shouldn't be surprised. For one moment she actually believed this was going somewhere, whatever "this" was.

Sherlock studied her for a moment.

Slowly, tentatively at first, he leaned over, and without a second thought, he kissed her.

He hooked his arm around her back, trying to put every bit of his feelings for her into that kiss.

All doubt left Molly's head, all she could feel were Sherlock's lips on hers. It took her about 3 seconds to react, and kiss him back. One of her hands made its way into his wet curls. Her stomach was full of butterflies.

The kiss lasted a solid minute before Sherlock finally broke apart from her, his forehead resting against hers, a light smile playing at his lips "I don't know what this is" he began "But I know I don't want it to stop. Molly, I'm feeling things for you that I've...I've never felt for anyone before. Ever. And I don't think I'll ever stop feeling those things." he kissed her lightly, a sweet, chaste kiss, and then, smiling nervously said "So...that's the truth"

When he finished is confession she kissed him, pulling back a smile on her face, "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear that, from you Sherlock." Molly sighed.

"Yeah, this is beautiful and everything, but have you two love birds finished?" The driver called, his deep cockney accent coming through the inter-com.

Sherlock looked up, smiling good naturedly for once. "Driver, to Baker Street please" He then turned back to Molly, extending a hand to her.

Molly took Sherlock's out-stretched hand and slid closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. All that could be heard was the engine of the car and the raining hitting the windows, somehow both being peaceful. Molly was about to ask Sherlock something when her phone chimed, indicating she had a message. She pulled her phone out of her coat pocket, the screen was lit up and she could see Mark's name on it, she swallowed and unlocked her phone, and hoping Sherlock wouldn't see, or choose not to look.

But Sherlock was not that sort of man. He glanced over, his eyes narrowing slightly. He did not comment at the name, waiting to see what the message had said, squeezing her hand gently to indicate his support.

Molly felt reassured and gave him a small smile in return, she slide the screen to unlock it.

From: Mark

This isn't over Molly. You think you can string me along and then set that weirdo on me? No. Tell your boyfriend he's lucky he caught me off guard.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"What have I gotten myself into?" Molly mumbled reading the message over and over again, "I should have just given him what he wanted, this wouldn't be happening, I wouldn't have dragged you into this mess." Molly continued to mumble under her breath and moved away from Sherlock slightly. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"No" said Sherlock quickly "No. Molly, listen to me. I'm going to help you through this no matter what. I am here for you, understand? I promise. And if you'd like to stay at 221B, just to feel a bit safer, you can for as long as you like. I have a spare bedroom"

Molly shook her head defiantly, still looking at her mobile screen, "I couldn't do that Sherlock-I can't invade your personal space like that, and-and what about Toby?"

"Toby can come stay too. I promise it wouldn't be a bother at all" he said firmly "Please...for me. I couldn't sleep thinking you were out there unprotected"

She finally looked up at him, seeing all she needed in his eyes, to help make her decision, "As long as you're sure? I know you like your space Sherlock."

"I'm positive" he said firmly "Give the driver your address, and we'll go pick up everything you need."

Molly nodded and did just that. She felt a little bit better knowing that she wouldn't be on her own but then the thought of living with Sherlock Holmes finally registered. Living. In the same flat. She'd only really seen him when he wanted a dead body, or to use her Lab. Now though she'll be living with him, in close quarters. A wave of excitement and relief came over Molly and she turned to Sherlock, "Thank you...again," she finished with a little laugh.

As the driver sped to Molly's house, Sherlock reflected on what he had just done, and how much had changed in just a day. He gripped her hand, looking out the window, a slow smile creeping across his face. He had to restrain himself from laughing aloud, and felt the urge to simply yell to all of London "I LOVE THIS WOMAN" but he remained silent, a small smile on his face.

Molly was busy drawing patterns on the back of Sherlock's hand when she suddenly noticed they where down her street, "It's just here on the left, please." She called to the driver.

"Right you are, love." The cabbie said as he pulled up to Molly building.

Sherlock got out of the cab and opened her door for her "Wait a moment" he said to the cabbie "We'll be right back down" He turned to Molly a small smile on his face "Ready?"

Molly returned his smile and got out the cab, "Yeah." Walking to the main entrance of her building she pressed in the key code and headed up to her flat. It was on the ground floor so there wasn't any walking up and downstairs with her things to be done. Remembering Toby she glanced back at Sherlock, "I have to get Toby from next door, here," she handed him her key, "Let yourself in, excuse the mess."

Sherlock paused, then nodded, entering the small flat. It was pastel and pretty, a bit of a mess but otherwise so very Molly. Spying the cat food, he hitched it under his arm, along with the bowl. He then turned, and stepped across the room to examine the photographs there.

Five minutes later Molly entered her flat catless, "Mrs. Richardson is having him for the night, so we-I can get settled. I told her what happened," she said wandering down the hallway to the small cupboard, "she's lovely to talk to you know. She doesn't need any of Toby's things as she has a cat of her own." Grabbing a large sports bag she went into her bedroom.

Molly opened her drawer and took out at least a weeks' worth of underwear. Along with a few tops, blouses, her dad's big grey hoodie and a couple of pairs of jeans. She made sure she didn't pack any of her more silly pajamas, Sherlock would have a field day if he saw her in them. For now it was plain white t-shirts and cotton knee length shorts.

Sherlock, hearing her, set down the bag of cat food. He examined the photographs more carefully. Family portraits, toby, Molly's first day at Bart's. He picked up a picture of a petite woman who looked very like Molly, and knew this must be her mother. He smiled. Molly had inherited her eyes.

"That was about three years before I came along," Molly said as she placed her bag near the front door, coming to stand next to Sherlock. That was one of her favorite pictures, the other being a picture of her dad and her on her tenth birthday. She let out a chuckle, "My dad always said she would complain about her ankles and back pain during the pregnancy with me. My brothers was a breeze compared to mine. Maybe that's why..."

He turned to her, still holding the photograph "Why what?" he asked, his eyebrows slightly furrowed

"Why she died. My Dad told me she had a lot of problems, even at the beginning. Maybe it was all leading up to that." Molly took the photograph from him and ran a finger over her mother's beautiful face. "It's strange. I never knew her but I miss her every day."

Sherlock gently pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head "You must'nt blame yourself. I'm sure even now she is proud to have a daughter such as you...wherever she is" he winced slightly. He had always been a man of science, but he was not one to ignore the concept of an afterlife.

"I know, I know," she sighed into his chest, "That was a lovely thing to say." Giggling a little, "I know you don't do mushy stuff." Molly sniffled and reached to wipe a stray tear, "I'm going to have to stop doing this. You'll think I'm an emotional wreck."

"It's alright to be an emotional wreck" he said, resting his chin on the top of her head "The more reasons I have to hold you, the better"

Molly pulled back and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "Okay, where's Sherlock? What have you done with him?"

Sherlock laughed, looking down at her "Not sure, actually. Something does feel...different" he looked down at her, and smiled slightly. "I feel...god. Better than I have in a long long time"

"Well then as long as you don't go changing who you are Sherlock Holmes," she grinned, reaching up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, "who am I to argue with that?"


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sherlock kissed her softly, then pulled away, smiling and releasing her "Got everything?" he asked, picking up the heaviest of the bags for her.

She nodded, "Yep. Clothes, wash stuff," Molly walked to the sofa reaching down lifting up a black bag, "Laptop." She stated and hooked it around her shoulder.

"Alright, let's be off then" said Sherlock with a slight smile, hitching her bag up his shoulder, and grasping her free hand to walk her back out to the cab "That cabbie is already a bit angry at us, after all"

Molly smirked, "You could just mention something about his ex-wife. That would probably shut him up." She locked her down behind her and noticed the look on Sherlock's face when she turned back around.

He was staring at her, dumbfounded "How did you know about his ex-wife?" he asked in disbelief "Did you...did you just make a DEDUCTION?"

"I-well did I get it wrong?" Molly rushed, "I just...when we got in the cab I saw the picture he hanging from his rear view mirror. And then I noticed he had a tan line on his ring finger and put two and two together. I don't know maybe I got five instead of four."

He moved forward and kissed her, hard and passionate, just for a few seconds, before pulling back "Wow" he mumbled "Heh..." he turned faintly pink, looking embarrassed "Let's go" he tugged her hand.

Molly look on bewildered, and cleared her throat, "I'll take that as a yes." She grinned and followed him to the front door of the building, "I can see why you do this for a living, that felt good."

"It does feel incredible" he said, holding the door open for her "Understanding and seeing what others don't figuring out things about people that they themselves may not even know...it's quite a rush" his voice was fast and clinical again. He got into the taxi himself, turning to look at her "Baker Street, driver" he said to the cabbie, who huffed quietly and drove.

Molly glanced at the driver and back to Sherlock before shifting closer, ready to lean in, she got within an inch when her phone chimed. Her eyes closed as the feeling of dread took her. She knew it was Mark, no denying it. Molly knew that not replying to his earlier text would now lead to a spam of either hateful or apology messages from his end.

Sherlock's head whipped around. He had made the same deduction "You don't have to answer it if you don't want to" he said quietly, gripping her hand

She sighed and took out her phone, "If I don't he won't stop," The screen showed that it was Mark and she slid the unlock bar, "he didn't last time." she mumbled quietly.

From: Mark

Ignoring me now, that's not very fair is it Molly? I had a feeling you liked to sleep around but with that freak? I'm ashamed Mols, I thought we had something.

Molly's head shot up with wide eyes knowing Sherlock had read the message to, "I never- I didn't sleep with him! Sherlock, honestly!"

"He shook his head "I wouldn't care if you did, it wouldn't change what I felt, and it would lower my respect for you. It just tells me that he's a moron who never deserved you. You'll be safe at my house, and if you'd like to block his number you can."

"I need to do this. I don't want to stick my head in the sand. Last time-" she stopped when her phone rang; Mark.

Sherlock gritted his teeth "Would you like me to get that?" he asked. They were only a few minutes away from Baker Street.

"Leave it. I'd rather not create a scene in the cab." Molly took a shaky breath and left her mobile to ring.

He nodded, putting an arm around her and giving her a sideways hug as the cub rumbled to a stop in front of 221B. Picking up her back, he stepped out of the cab, again holding the door open for her, and heading up the steps toward his flat. "If you'll forgive the mess...I'll have it cleaned up right away, and we'll order some take away. Fish and chips? Chinese?"

She smiled, "Don't worry. Chinese sounds lovely." Looking around she noticed the flat was in some disarray but having scene what Sherlock is like when he's bored she wasn't surprised. Her eyes wandered to the yellow smiley face on the wall, "Are those bullet holes?!"

"I was bored" he mumbled, slightly embarrassed


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Sherlock smiled at her a bit anxiously "The guest room is down the hall to the left. John cleaned it before he left, so it should be alright. Ah...there's only one bathroom, and it's across the hall from your room." he smiled as he started to straighten up his piles of notes, putting away his microscope. Strangely enough, the apartment appeared specimen free. He ordered the Chinese takeout, and then looked about, not sure what to do with himself.

Molly stood near the door way watching him flit and about the room climbing over the furniture with grace. She tilted her head and admired him, how on Earth did land a remarkable man such as him? Molly walked further into the room as he ordered the Chinese. Once he'd hung up he looked a little lost, "Would you like to help me unpack? I mean-if you want to that is, you don't have to," she frowned at her own babbling, all of a sudden she was very aware that this was Sherlock's flat, Sherlock's space.

He looked up. The flat was relatively tidy now. He smiled "Sure" he said, glad for something to do, following her into the spare bedroom where there was a bed with sheets on it, a chest of drawers, a mirror, and a small closet . "Ah...I'll get you a blanket...it'll get cold if you only have the sheet" he said "Just a moment" he left the room, searching the apartment for a comforter that would be warm enough.

"Okay." Once Sherlock left, in search of a blanket she emptied her bag. Folding everything and laying it out on the bed. Picking up her underwear she quickly put them in the top of the chest of drawers, taking her tops and bottoms and hanging them in the closet. Looking around there was still an essence of John in the room but for now it would make do, it would have to.

Sherlock realized he had one option, hesitated, and then went to get it. He returned to Molly's room with a thick, faded quilt. He smiled, spreading it across the bed "That should keep your warm" he said quietly.

Hearing Sherlock coming back, Molly grabbed her bag and shoved it into the small closet on the floor. Placing her wash bag on top of the chest of drawers she watched him placed the huge quilt on her bed, "Sherlock, if I was to walk into your room, would I see you duvet-less?"

"Well..." Mumbled Sherlock sheepishly "it's no problem" he said "you have it, really. It'll keep you quite warm, I promise"

"Sherlock," drawing out his name, moving to stand in front of him, "You done so much for me already," she ran her hands down his arms and entwined their fingers, "I can't take your quilt too, what are you going to do?"

"I'll be alright" he said quietly. He touched the quilt with the fingertips of his left hand. "It's quite old. My grandmother made it for me" he said reminiscently

Molly looked down at the cover, taking in all the patch work, the different types of cotton, it looked homely and very comfy. "It's beautiful," she said softly, watching him closely. It was the first time she had ever heard Sherlock say anything remotely about his family in the years of knowing him, she knew he was a private man. Molly couldn't help but be curious, "Were you close?" she hoped she hadn't said the wrong thing.

My mother and father were away a lot" he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "By the time I was 9, Mycroft was in college. I stayed with her a lot. She used to read me old poetry..." He laughed softly, smiling "She spoke in quotes and old wives tales" his smile faded. "She died in the middle of my first year at university" he sighed softly. "That was ten years ago...I still miss her"

Molly sat down next to him, one of her hands still holding his. She listened intently, he seemed lost in his own little world, smiling when he laughed. Molly brought a hand up to his cheek when he finished speaking and made him look at her, "You know you still have her, memories and," She moved the hand that was on his cheek, to lay on his heart, "in here, she'll always be with you Sherlock. Just like my mum and dad are with me."

Sherlock hesitated. There was a time he would have pushed her away, thought up a scathing comment to distance himself from her. But times had certainly changed, because now he didn't want her to go, he wanted her exactly where she was, and he held her hand against his chest, a small smile on his face. "Thank you, Molly" he said quietly.

Molly smiled sadly, "No one has ever told you that before, have they?"

He shook his head, avoiding her eye.

"Hey," she objected softly, "You may not believe in what happens when we go, neither do I really but isn't it nice to believe that our loved ones are here with us, watching, keeping an eye?" Molly squeezed his hand that was resting on his lap, "Your Grandmother would be so proud of you. Doing what you do, helping people get justice, giving solace and closure to people who have lost someone." She gave him a smile bending her head to look him in the eye, "I know I am. You are amazing Sherlock Holmes, and if she was here today she would say the same thing." Molly looked a bit sheepish, hoping that she had been able to convince him of the truth and comfort him.

And then, to his own horror, Sherlock Holmes felt tears welling up in his eyes. Unable to speak, he nodded, unsure what to do. He hesitated, then hugged her, trembling slightly. He had no idea what had brought this on but knew that he would not want to be anywhere but here with her, his pathologist, his Molly.

Molly felt him start to shake and her own heart broke for him. Wondering if this was the first time he'd properly thought and felt about his Grandmother. Running a hand up and down his back while the fingers of her other one played with the hair on his neck, "It's okay Sherlock," she kissed the side of his head, "It's okay to feel. You may think that sentiment is boring and useless but what you're feeling now makes you human. It doesn't make you weak."

It took him several minutes to get a hold of himself, but when he at long last managed it, he pulled very slightly back, hastily wiping his eyes. "Thank you" he murmured, kissing her gently. "Thank you Molly"

Molly smiled and ran her thumbs under his eyes returning the kiss, "You don't need to thank me Sherlock, I'm just telling you the truth." She thought back to earlier in the corridor of the morgue, the cab, her flat, "I'm just repaying the favor."

He smiled, pulling himself together, and standing as the doorbell rang "That'll be the takeout. Will you get that while I take care of something?"

Molly stomach rumbled and she blushed, "Yes, of course." She gave him a peck on the lips as she made her way downstairs. After paying for the food she went into the kitchen. Looking around, _where is everything? _She wondered, moving to the cupboard above the cooker, she opened it and jumped. Putting a hand over her chest, "Eyes, really?" She mumbled to herself. Finally finding the plates and cutlery she went into the living room and set everything on the coffee table.

Sherlock emerged from his bedroom, looking much more himself, though his eyes were still a bit puffy from crying. He sat across the coffee table from her "Sorry about the specimens, I'll get rid of them tomorrow."

She laughed and handed him a knife and fork, "I work with dead bodies for a living Sherlock. I just didn't expect to see a dozen eyes peering at me from a kitchen cupboard," Molly looked down at her food specifically the chicken balls, "Okay, probably not the best topic before eating food."

Sherlock burst into laughter, a free, happy sound that hadn't come out of his mouth in years. When he finally managed to stop and take a bite of his chicken and friend rice, he had a broad smile on his face and his cheeks were red.

Molly started to giggle along with him, she had never heard Sherlock laugh before, she decided she liked it..._loved it_. "I could get used to that," She said, taking a bite of her food.

"To what?" he asked, his cheek packed with food. He swallowed, looking puzzled "Me laughing? I suppose I don't do it enough"

"It's a beautiful sound." She softly, standing up she placed her plate on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen, "Would you like a glass of water? Or juice...if you have some." Molly asked, looking around the kitchen, she paused and looked at Sherlock, "There isn't anything that's going to jump out at me again is there?"

"No, the eyeballs are it...I threw the rest out with the garbage the other day" he said, smiling. "There's apple juice, tea, milk, and water in the fridge" While she was in the kitchen, Sherlock heard a knock at the door. He went to answer it, and there, standing before him...was John.

"John!" spluttered Sherlock, looking surprised "what are you doing here?"

"I came to apologize...I shouldn't have gotten so angry Sherlock, and-"

"Apology accepted" Sherlock cut him off in a low voice "Listen, I'm a bit busy, I'll explain later but-"

Sherlock's phone dinged. He checked it and went very still, his eyes narrowing. He turned his attention back to John.

Molly poured to glasses of water for Sherlock and herself and returned to the sofa, hearing hushed voices she poked her head out of the door, "Sherlock?" she called, "if it's a client I can finish my food upstairs..." She came to stand on the first landing and saw John there looking somewhat smug, with, well what looked to be a very blushing Sherlock or angry, judging by his red face.

John waved at Molly, grinning slightly "Hello Molly" he said "Well...I'll just be off. Sherlock" he looked at him significantly "We'll talk tomorrow"

Sherlock closed the door, then turned to face Molly, blushing "Sorry about that...he um...he likes to check up on me..."

"No, it's fine," she said heading back upstairs, "You could have invited him in, we have enough food and he did used to live here after all." Molly stated while sitting back down to the takeout.

"No, honestly I'd rather just be with you right now." he said flatly, without thinking.

Taken aback Molly nearly choked on her rice, "I-" she looked up at him, finally swallowing what was in her mouth, "-really? I don't know what to say, that's so sweet."

He looked up, blinking confusedly "Ah...well...I'm merely speaking the truth" he left his food half finished, and went to the window, looking out. "It's snowing" he commented quietly.

Molly glanced from his plate to his back. Had she said something wrong? There was a sort of shift in the air, putting her plate down she got up and stood behind him. Peering over his shoulder to see that it was in fact, snowing, "So it is," she murmured placing her arms around his waist and pressing herself against his back, "Your food's getting cold..."

"I don't feel much like eating" he said quietly. There was a shift, something had changed since he had answered the door. Something was different. A bing came from the inside of Sherlock's pocket. He flipped out his phone, checked the text, and gritted his teeth.

Molly let go of him as she felt him tense. She knew this was a bad idea, invading his space. Maybe if she hadn't accepted his offer she wouldn't have been there, so he wouldn't have gotten embarassed. She couldn't see his phone, his shoulder was in the way, "What's wrong?"

He turned around, shaking his head "Nothing it's just...my father is coming into town for Christmas, and..." he shook his head again, looking frustrated and, was it possible...a little scared?

"Molly...you don't know a lot about my family, but...my mother was an heiress who ran off with a drunk who squandered any money we had by the time I was 12. I put myself through University, and took care of my grandmother because after my mother died my father didn't give a damn what happened to his mother in law." Sherlock sank into his chair, his head in his hands "I hate the man"

Molly was speechless, heiress? Christmas? She'd forgotten all about it, after everything that happened today. She knelt in front of him resting her hands on his knees, "Sherlock?" Stroking his knee she gave it a squeeze, "Sherlock, if you don't want to see your father, then you don't have to. No one's going to make you. Certainly not me. I'm sorry for what you went through as a child, I'm sorry you had to take care of your Grandmother on your own," Molly had tears in her eyes now, "I'm not going to say I understand what you went through, because I can't. But, I can tell you that if you need someone to be there with you..." She trailed off, leaving the offer unsaid but knowing he would understand

He turned to her, his own eyes red again "You'd stay?" he asked softly, his eyes sad. He looked a bit sad, a bit neglected, like a puppy that's been kicked too many times to expect a scratch behind the ear.

Molly smiled softly at him, it scared her but hopefully it didn't show on her face. He looked so lost, so fragile. Never before had she thought she would use those words to describe Sherlock. "I'll stay." She affirmed.

"Thank you" he said quietly. He noted the time "It's getting late, and it's been a long day. Maybe its time to get to bed" he suggested, getting to his feet. The anxiety he had felt in his chest when he had received the first text from Mycroft was completely eased now. Molly was staying, she WANTED to stay. He felt a glow of warmth spreading from his chest, and felt a deep sense of sentiment that he quite enjoyed.

"Sentiment…" he murmured under his breath.

"Hm?" said Molly absently.

"Nothing" he said, turning to kiss her, feeling a rush of happiness he had never known before flood through him.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Okay." Molly said softly, a smile on her face. She started to collect the leftovers and took them into the kitchen clearing both plates before placing them in the sink. She turned and moved towards Sherlock, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight Sherlock," with that Molly quickly headed upstairs to her bedroom, to do her nightly routine.

He watched her go, a light smile on his face, before entering his room, dressing in a pair of sweats and a grey cotton t shirt, turning, and flopping down on his back on the bed. He pulled the bedsheet over himself, but lay awake, his hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the events of the day. Everything had changed, and definitely for the better, but he had no idea where this was going. And he didn't like the unknown. On the other hand, he had never been happier, and he had never expressed so much of himself. But he knew that he would eventually start upsetting Molly, whether with his mannerisms or with his habits, or just by something he'd say one day. If his father had taught him anything, it was that Sherlock Holmes always always messed up, in one way or another. He sighed deeply. The minute that day came, he would get out of her life...for her own good. But for now, he decided, he would make her as happy as he possibly could, and protect her from anyone who ever tried to hurt her.

Molly went through her routine, putting her white t-shirt and cotton shorts on, taking the bobble out her hair, brushing and placing it in a loose bun. She went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, before climbing into bed, she was surrounded by Sherlock. His flat, his smell. Sherlock was right she could already feel te warmth coming off the huge duvet.

"My phone," Molly mumbled to herself, she got out of bed with a groan and walked over to where her coat was on the back of the door. She made the decision to put it on silent earlier, so she forgot all about it. Crawling back into bed she clicked the button at the bottom and the screen lit up, her eyebrows reached her hairline;

30 texts, 15 calls and 3 voicemails.

She started to worry, this is bad. Worse than before. Then again she did say sorry straight away before. She locked her phone again, she couldn't read them now. She'll deal with this in the morning. Placing her phone on the bedside table she rolled over and drifted off into a restless sleep.

Sherlock lay awake for a long time before falling asleep. He knew he would have nightmares, he always did, hence the consistent paleness, and yet he wasn't prepared for this one. He woke up with a start, sighed, and rolled over.

It felt as though she was being strangled, that's all she could describe it as. Someone pushing on her throat until all she could see where little black spots in her vision. Molly shot up in bed and grabbed her neck panting. Realizing it was a nightmare she flopped back down. Half an hour must of gone by before she grabbed her phone and looked at the time, 04:54.

Deciding she wasn't going to get back to sleep she slipped out of bed and made her way down stairs, stopping for a call of nature on the way. She entered the kitchen not bothering to turn any lights on, got out a cup and flicked the kettle on. She itched her eyes and leant against the counter.

Sherlock stood up, unable to sleep. His short sleeves didn't leave much to the imagination. Old scars laced up and down his inner forearm from the crook of his elbow to his wrist. He slipped on his dressing gown, tied the belt, and went to make himself some tea. He knew he wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight. He turned the corner into the kitchen and nearly collided with Molly.

Molly put her phone down for the fifth time since the kettle started to boil. She ran a hand through her hair and made a face quickly re-doing it as best she could. Finally the kettle boiled, she poured the water watching it turn brown. Placing the kettle back she spun around to go to the fridge when she saw a dark silhouette. Letting out a squeak she jumped back and banged into the kitchen counter, "Sherlock!"

"Molly! He jumped forward, steadying her "Are you alright? I'm so sorry, I couldn't sleep so I...why are you awake? What happened, is everything alright?" his hair was curlier and wilder than usual.

"Everything is fine Sherlock," she said quietly after her heart rate had come down. She turned away from him and reached up to get another cup, for him, causing her shirt to itch up and display a nice purple bruise on her side, just a little lower than where her belly button would be, "I couldn't sleep either. Would you get me the milk, please?"

"Oh my...Jesus Christ Molly, sit down!" he said, guiding her to a seat "That's my fault, shit!" he swore "Hold on, I'll get the milk yes, and an ice pack, Molly I'm so sorry that's all my fault" he grabbed the milk, setting it beside her, and pulled an ice pack out of the freezer "Let me have a look at that" he said, crouching beside her.

The next thing Molly new she was sat in at the kitchen table with Sherlock running around her. "Sherlock," she called watching him, "Sherlock stop," he wasn't listening he crouched beside her ready to see the damage, "Sherlock stop it!" She exclaimed trying pulled the side of her t-shirt down.

He moved back "Sorry!" he said, holding up his hands, one with the ice pack in his hand "I'm sorry, I know I surprised you but you must have hit something to give you a bruise like that, let me help!" he said, looking a little panicky at the thought that he had indirectly hurt her.

She wasn't going to get out of this one, she supposed she could blame it on Sherlock, but that wouldn't be fair. Molly wrapped her arms around herself, "It wasn't your fault." She said, not meeting Sherlock's eye.

He looked up, his eyes fixed on her face. "What?" he said softly, reaching forward and gently tipping her chin so that she was looking at him "Molly...what happened?" he asked quietly, his voice gentle and steady. He could feel it though. He could sense the answer hanging in the air between them. He knew, but he didn't want to say it, not just yet, not until he could master his anger.

Molly shook her head, tears were collecting in her eyes, she didn't want to say it because saying it makes it real. She would take back what she said earlier, if she could just stick her head in the sand until all the bruises had cleared. Mark wasn't even her boyfriend and he's managed to make her feel less than human before, worthless. Looking Sherlock in the eye, her chin wobbled, "Don't make me say it," she whispered and she shook with a silent sob.

He gently picked her, up, scooping her wordlessly into his arms and carrying her to the couch. He sat upright, holding her like a child, murmuring softly "You don't have to say it. You don't. I'll keep you safe, I promise, and he'll never touch you again, I swear Molly. As long as I'm alive, nobody will ever hurt you again"

Molly clung to him, sobs wracked her body, though there was no sound. "Why me? What did I do?" She asked scrunching the back of his dressing gown in her hands, the anger of being humiliated was bubbling in her, she had to get it out, it was eating her up, has been for weeks...months. Molly let out a growl and shot up off him starting to pace, wringing her hands, "He hit me," she blurted out, "over and over. All because I rejected him. I said no when he ask me to go out with him again. He yelled, made it seem like my fault and so I said okay to another date!" She laughed bitterly and stopped in front of Sherlock, "Do you know how stupid that makes me? How pathetic I feel?" She jabbed her finger into her chest, "He kept hitting, I kept apologizing- I couldn't-" her shoulders sagged as all the umpf had left her body. She couldn't be bothered anymore.

He stood and said firmly "Molly, stop." he placed his hands on her shoulders, and looked into her eyes "Molly Hooper. You did NOTHING to deserve this. That cowardly moron doesn't deserve you, not a bit, he hurt you and will never do so again. Molly, please, hear me" He moved a bit closer, so that they were only a few inches apart "He doesn't deserve someone so beautiful, funny, kind, and compassionate. And you know what? I sometimes think you don't see those things in yourself." he sighed, releasing her and taking a step back. "I don't have the right to say I've never hurt you...I haven't physically, but I'm sure I have in other ways. Molly, I'm scared of people. I'm scared of getting close and attached, I'm scared of caring, so I scratch and I bite and I push people away and for every second of pain you've endured because of me I am so sorry. But I will never hurt you again, and I'll make sure nobody else does either, including Mark. And Molly..." he looked her straight in the eyes, and said softly "Never ever forget that you matter more to me than anyone else. You count Molly. You count."


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Molly was trying to listen and take in everything he said. There's a war going on in her head and she's losing there's a huge battlefield but she was the only person stood there. Everything is slow motion but fast forward at the same time, she can see Mark every time she closes her eyes. God, she thought to herself. Is this what it's like to go insane? Had she finally lost it?

She moved to stand in front of him, watching the tear fall down his face, over his cheek bones and trail down to his chin finally dripping of his chin. "You make me feel loved. In a way you always have." She took a breath, "Even when you were being mean, I still fell in love with you." It didn't even register what she had said, "I watched you grow, I watched you change, and mold into a better version of yourself when you met John." She reached up, hesitating slightly before she rest her palm on his cheek, "Don't be afraid of me Sherlock," she said in a whisper, "I can take any pain from anyone, but you being afraid to care for me just might kill me." She finished and her voice broke again, more tears leaking and running down her cheeks.

He stepped closer, one arm wrapped around her waist with his hand secured at her hip, the other meshed in her thick hair. He took a moment, and a long deep breath "I love you, Molly Hooper. You make me...so incredibly happy. And If you let me...I will spend all of my time trying to help you feel the same way." he kissed her, softly, tenderly, then broke apart, whispering 'I love you" again and again, wanting, NEEDING her to understand.

It was like music to her ears. A weight had lifted off her shoulder, she felt lighter. Granted there was still the problem of Mark but right now all that mattered to her was Sherlock, she half kissed him half sobbed with relief, "Sherlock, I love you. I love you so much." Molly gripped the lapels of his dressing gown, "Don't ever be afraid of me, please," she whispered.

"I won't, I'm not...I promise" he whispered, kissing her again and feeling the same as she did, a weight lifting off his shoulders. He hugged her, his chin rested on her head, securing her against him and smiling through a tear dampened face.

Molly sighed, wrapping her arms around him. She felt like she could run a mile, she felt...happy? Was it happiness? She let out another shaky sigh, getting over her crying episode. Pulling back she wiped her eyes then ran her thumbs under Sherlock's.

He smiled, moving back just enough to get a true look at her "I love you" he said again, experimenting, loving the taste of the words on his tongue.

A grin broke out on her face, "I love you too," she said, she couldn't stop grinning, "I love you." She declared again, this time chuckling a bit.

He laughed out loud, smiling at her. It was now 5:00 in the morning "Let's see if we can get to bed" he said softly "Come on, you must be exhausted"

Molly paused, "Will you-will you stay with me?" Molly held up her hands, "Just to sleep. I don't really want to be on my own." A chime come from her phone lighting up part of the kitchen, "Ignore it,"

"Yes, I will stay" said Sherlock, doing as she said and ignoring the phone. He smiled "Let's go" he said softly, grasping her hand in his own.

Molly took his hand and lead him upstairs glad that he did as she asked, the last thing she, and Sherlock, needed was getting into all these messages and voicemails. They needed to be well rested and face it head on. With Sherlock by her side she knew she was capable of overcoming anything, "I'll be in, in a minute," she said turning to go in the bathroom.

He sat on the edge of the bed, the covers mussed, waiting for her patiently. He wasn't sure what to expect. Certainly not anything of a sexual nature, not tonight, but he'd never shared a bed with anyone before. He felt distinctly nervous.

Looking at herself in the mirror she lifted her top up to just under her breasts and winced. One big bruise just under her ribs, yellow and fading, she had to take a week off work for that one. Two smaller blue-ish ones. She turned slightly and saw the newer purple-y red one. She quickly brushed her teeth again and headed back into John's-her room.

She gave him a worried look when she saw he was sat, as stiff as a board on the edge on the bed, "What's wrong?" She asked looking around the room as if it would show the answer.

"Nothing" he said quickly, looking up at her and flashing an edgy smile "It's nothing, really" he looked closely at her, asking (mostly because he cared but partly to deflect) "how are you feeling?"

She narrowed her eyes, "Better, thank you." She moved towards him and stood in between his knees, he was uncomfortable about something but she wasn't going to push it, "I have something to show you..."

He froze, going completely still "I...um...well..." he stammered for several long seconds before he finally said "o-o-okay"

Molly had never seen him this nervous, did being in a bedroom with her really freak him out? She wasn't about to jump his bones, not that she didn't want to but it wasn't the right time. Molly lifted her shirt up, but a bit lower than when she was in the bathroom. She swallowed and tried to gauge his reaction, "I wanted you to see. I mean, you've seen one, and-and so these are the rest." Now she was nervous, what if it put him off, she was damaged and bruised.

"Oh..." he murmured. He sighed deeply, his fingers whisping over the injuries, feeling very gently "It looks like the one on the ribs is a bone bruise...it'll heal itself. The others are comparatively not as bad as they could be." he forced himself to be as clinical as possible, but he couldn't quite manage it. His voice broke twice. He sighed "Put your shirt down. Come here" he said, tugging her gently to sit beside him on the bed, and hugging her gently.

Her stomach flinched as he was doing his examination. She did as he said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shown you. That was stupid-" Great, she thought, back to babbling again. Not half an hour ago they were declaring love for each other, now…now she didn't know what was going on. Sherlock didn't want to be near her, he didn't even want to be in the same bed with her. She picked at her nails and looked down at her lap, "I understand if you want to sleep in your bed."

"No no!" he said quickly, realizing at once the impression he had made "No thats not...Molly it's..." he sighed, looking away, saying in a defeated voice "I've never shared a bed with anyone before" he wouldn't look at her. "Sexually or otherwise"

Realization crossed Molly's features she touched his arm which was still covered with his dressing gown, "Sherlock look at me," she grabbed his chin lightly, "I know what you're thinking and you can stop it now. That I'm going to run away because you've told me that? Because you've never had sex without someone?" Molly shook her head, "It's not something to be ashamed of Sherlock, do you know how honored I would be to share your first experience with you? If-if you'd let me, when, whenever you feel ready. If you ever feel ready." She kissed him, lightly pressing her lips to his, "Just because you've never shared a bed with anyone doesn't mean I won't let you share mine with me."

He looked at her, smiling tentatively, and kissed her "Alright" he hesitated "But...definitely not tonight...right?" he sounded a little anxious, and totally unprepared, but also relieved that she wasn't heading for the hills.

"Nothing has to happen tonight. Don't worry, please. I'm not going to make you do anything you aren't ready to do Sherlock." Molly said reassuringly, trying to get the point across.

He smiled, relieved, and said "Alright...but its 5:30 now" he said, looking suddenly stern "And you look exhausted. Let's get some sleep" he moved over on the bed, giving her some space, still a little unsure.

"Yes boss," she said with a chuckle and crawled into bed with him. She made sure to put some space between them both, not knowing how he would react if she went in for a cuddle. She turned onto her side, facing him. "I'm going to turn over, I'm not ignoring you it just hurts my side of I lay this way," turning back over she itched closer to the edge to give him some more space he might need.

He nodded. He lay there, contemplating what he should do next. He had, as he had told her, no experience. He hesitated, then moved closer, putting his arms around her and pulling her a bit closer. He loved the feel of her in his arms, but was tense, waiting to see how she'd react.

Molly smiled when she felt Sherlock shift closer, she put her hand on top of his where it rest on her stomach and put her fingers through his. She hummed her approval, sleep already taking her, "This is nice," she said in a low voice, "I knew you were a cuddler," mumbling she squeezed his hand.

He blushed bright crimson, but smiled, feeling a great sense of comfort as he slowly drifted to sleep with the woman he loved in his arms.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The next time Molly awoke she saw there was bright sunlight outside, John's curtains where very dark, but around the edges it was seeping through. She felt movement behind her and froze for a moment, quickly remembering Sherlock had accompanied her to bed last night, or this morning. Molly din't know what time it was, at a guess she would say sometime after twelve. What she did know was that she had the making of a headache coming on. Carefully turning over it seemed her and Sherlock and left each other's embrace while they were sleeping. She perched her head atop of her hand and watched him, he looked so peaceful.

Sherlock slept for a few more moments. He had forgotten to remove his dressing gown the night before, and in his sleep the sleeves had crept up, revealing thick scars, straight across his wrist. He sighed in his sleep, mumbled something, and slumbered on, looking more peaceful and relaxed than ever before.

Molly didn't catch what he had said in his sleep, but it didn't seem to affect him, deciding she'd get up and make that cuppa tea she lifted to covers, and slipped out, she was about to put the covers back down again, when she saw them. Molly was frozen with shock, moving to kneel next to Sherlock she carefully lifted one of his hands and rested it on her lap. She ran a single finger over one of the scars.

His hand jerked out of her grasp as he let out a yell, his eyes flying open, he moved backward across the bed, landing hard on the ground on the other side.

Molly jumped in her place watching him fly off the bed he was acting as if she'd burnt him, "Sherlock! What-"

He was pressed against the wall, his green eyes wide and panicked. He didn't seem to have registered what have woken him "What...Molly..." he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I'm sorry" he said "I'm sorry, I don't know..." and then he saw her eyes fixed on his right sleeve. "...Oh" he sighed, running his fingers through his dark curly hair.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, or-or...startle you." Molly held up her hands as she moved towards him, sliding off the bed to sit crossed legged in front of him. She gesture with her head to his right arm, "What...When did-" She looked him in the eye, "Sherlock?"

He sighed, shifting slightly, rolling up both sleeves. Both arms had been treated the same, with line after line of scar tissue issuing from his wrist to the crook of each elbow "College was rough" he said quietly "I'd been doing it on and off for a few years before that, but college...and then University..."

He closed his eyes. "It was never fun. Let's just say Sally Donovan isn't the first person to call me freak."

Molly couldn't believe what she was seeing, she was mortified. She couldn't begin to imagine what Sherlock went through, everyone seemed so hell bent on making him out to be a freak, but he was so special. Right now she wanted to punch the living daylight out of Sally Donovan. "Oh god, Sherlock," she whispered in a sigh, shuffling forward so she was still crossed legged but closer to him, "Can I..?" She held out her hands and motioned to hold one of his arms.

He hesitated, then held it out. The scars were all clearly quite old, none within the past few years or so. His arm was shaking slightly as she took it. He looked at her, and there was a look of absolute openness on his face that was near enough heartbreaking.

She gently held his arm, taking in every detail, every line that marked his skin, "You can take all these scars, all the pain you felt and turn them into I love you's," her voice was soft, she gazed up at him, her eyes shining with tears for him. All that pain he went through, and here he is, saving the city keeping people safe, "Because I do Sherlock, I love you." Looking him straight in the eye, "It doesn't change how I feel about you, I don't love you any less I certainly don't think of you any less. If anything it makes you more the man I thought you were. To go through all that and still turn around and help everyone," Molly shook her head and dipped it, she placed light feather kisses over each scar whispering "I love you" after each one.

He fought back his own tears, and said nothing for a moment. As she kissed his arm, he allowed every "I love you" to cleanse him. He paused, using his free hand to tip her head back, he leaned down and kissed her "I love you too" he murmured. He took a few moments to steal himself, then stood, helping her to her feet "Thank you" he murmured.

"There's no need to thank me, I'll say it over and over again if I have too. I'd say it every day in the morning and last thing at night." She wrapped her arms around his neck stretching up to give him a proper kiss. Running her hands through his hair she propelled all her love and admiration for him into the kiss, she gave his hair a light tug as she released him and couldn't help but giggle at the look on his face.

The look on his face was appropriate to someone who had recently gotten very drunk and then been clubbed over the head. He smiled, seized her, and pulled her in for a kiss, one arm around her waist and the other meshed in her hair, finally breaking apart with a smile "Let's get some breakfast"


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Let's, I'm famished." She walked trailing behind him, her hands in each of his.

He turned "Tea and pancakes in, or shall we go somewhere?" he asked, wondering what she would prefer.

"In. Tea and pancakes sounds wonderful." She said as she hopped up onto the kitchen counter, "I want to have a lazy day today. I don't have to be in at work. So I'd like to spend it with you, if you're capable of having a lazy day without shooting the wall?" She asked giving Sherlock a cheeky grin.

"Sounds good to me" he said, pulling out a bowl and beginning to competently dish out ingredients, skillfully mixing it all together with a whisk. He was completely focused as he set about pooling the batter on the pan.

Molly was quite content to sit there and watch him from her perch on the side. He moved around the kitchen with skill, Molly tilted her head, strange for a man that never seems to eat. She then thought that maybe he'd had to cook for himself when his parents were away, or for his Grandmother, "You cook..." Molly said, lamely, stating the obvious.

Sherlock turned, smiling sheepishly "Yes, well...yes, I do. It's basic chemistry" he said, smiling "And the end result is quite enjoyable. " he added a pinch of this and sprinkle of that to the top of the pancakes, and as they sizzled he put on the kettle. He then flipped the pancakes, and began skillfully chopping strawberries.

Molly grinned, "You do seem at home in the kitchen." She plopped down off the side and made the cups of tea, "What do you want to do today? I mean I know I said it's a lazy day, but we could watch a film or talk, or I could watch you go over your cases?" She suggested grabbing the milk from the fridge.

"Whatever you wish" he said, a smile on his face "I am yours to command, but I think we should count on a visit from-"

The doorbell rang.

"Ah yes...there they are now"

Sherlock flipped the pancakes onto a plate and went to answer the door. John and Mary Watson were there, both beaming. It looked as though John had filled Mary in. "Come on in" said Sherlock gruffly.

Molly nods and finishes preparing the table, moving the teas and plates to their places as Sherlock went downstairs. Mary stepped in first, her hand in Johns, "What a lovely greeting, we should come here more often John," she said somewhat sarcastically.

"Do calm down Mary" said Sherlock. His face had become smooth and inscrutable again "We were just making breakfast, you may stay" he turned and walked back into the kitchen. John smiled, squeezing his wife's hand "Did you cook Sher...oh Molly! You're still here. Lovely" he said, a sly smile on his face. Sherlock, who was dishing pancakes onto plates, was blushing deeply, but his face was still inscrutable.

"John!" Molly greeted trying to hide the blush that was growing up her neck, "Hello! Oh and Mary, hello, good morning!" Giving them both a quick hug she went back to Sherlock, taking John and Mary's plate from him once they were filled with pancakes.

"Hello Molly," Mary said taking in their appearance, it was obvious Molly stayed the night, apart from that she had nothing. It could have all been innocent, but Mary wasn't one to pry...straight away.

John looked from Sherlock to Molly as the small talk went around the table, everyone eating their pancakes and sipping the tea that Sherlock and Molly had made. John looked up "So, Molly...we haven't talked much lately. How've you been?" He and Molly had gotten quite close over the time that Sherlock had been gone, a brother/sister type relationship.

Molly froze but quickly swallowed what pancake she had in her mouth and looked up at John, "I've been good thanks John. You're looking well, how are you both?" Molly gave them a tight smile, subconsciously tugging on the hem of her t-shirt. She certainly didn't want to talk about what happened, especially over breakfast. She was too tired.

Sherlock sat in silence, barely touching his food, looking grim and more like his old self, the person who lashed out, who was defensive and waspish. John smiled "We've been excellent. In fact..." he glanced at Mary, a small smile on his face "We...we have some very good news. We were just coming over to tell you" He was positively beaming. Sherlock looked at them both, eyebrows furrowed.

Molly gave Sherlock a sideways glance, both John and Mary, and herself had nearly finished their breakfasts while Sherlock's plate was full. She picked the last bit of her pancake as she look at John.

Mary had a huge grin on her face as she grabbed John's hand, "I'll let you tell them, I know how much you've been looking forward to it."

"Mary's pregnant" said John, a broad grin on his face. Sherlock arched an eyebrow, and looked at Mary carefully "ah..." he said, getting to his feet "Congratulations to the pair of you. I'm sure you'll both find parenting quite fulfilling"

John sighed. This was more like the Sherlock he knew.

"You'll make wonderful parents." Molly got up and met Mary for a hug, "Congratulations, really." She couldn't help but be happy for them, seeing the look on John's face said how over the moon he was.

"Thank you Molly," Mary said rubbing her friends back.

Molly pulled back and gave a worried smile to John and glanced at Sherlock. She didn't know what she should do, should she go and see Sherlock, but would he get embarrassed in front of John and Mary. Or should he leave John and Sherlock to have their own discussion?

John seemed to be thinking something along the same lines. He was sure that for Sherlock to let Molly stay over, he must be very comfortable with her. "Well ah...we'd best be off" he said, standing "Come on Mary, let's leave these two in peace. Sherlock, I'll talk to you later" he said with a significant look. Sherlock nodded, watching them head for the door.

"Bye guys," Molly called, as she heard them making their way downstairs and started to clear the table. Scraping the leftover's off the plates and started to fill the sink with hot water. What should she do? She was sure if she asked him outright he would bite her head off, he'd seemed to revert back to his old self over the course of about thirty minutes.

Sherlock sat on the couch, drawing his knees up to his chest, looking thoughtful, his eyebrows furrowed as they always were when considering a serious problem.

She watched him, she was torn between wanting to ask him how he was and leaving him to be on his own for a while, in his min palace or whatever it was called. He always did prefer to be on his own when he was thinking, she thought to herself. Molly decided that was the best, she hoped. "I'll just go and get a shower," she said softly as if not to startle him.

He looked up "Ah...alright. Wait, let me get you a towel." he stood, walking across the coffee table and toward the closet win the hallway. He pulled out a towel, handing it to her "The floor gets quite slippery when it's wet, so be careful, alright?" he said. He looked at her, hesitated, and then said "I'm sorry if I seem a bit closed off. I just feel that...I feel that I'm losing my best friend"

She followed him to the closet taking the towel from him, "I'll be careful." She nodded. Slinging the towel over her shoulder she placed a kissed on his lips, "You'd never lose John. He's just finding love and a family of his own with Mary. You're still going to be his best friend and he yours. You didn't see him after you left Sherlock, he was a mess, Mary helped him." She stroked his cheek, "I don't think he could do that to you. Plus, he still loves to fight crime."

Sherlock smiled, feeling a bit reassured. He kissed her lightly, and said "Alright, thank you. I'll just leave you to take your shower" he said, and walked back out into the living room to play his violin.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Molly had never taken a shower while listening to violin music before, there was something very calming about it, smiling to herself as she rinsed the shampoo off her hair she quickly applied conditioner. While she waited for the conditioner to work its magic she decided to give herself a good scrub, she spotted a black shower gel bottle in the corner of the bath, picking it up he squirted some onto a sponge and worked it into her skin. Suddenly she was surrounded by the smell of Sherlock, she was lost in it. A good five minutes later she rinsed herself and her hair and stepped out, holding onto the sink so she didn't slip. Grabbing a towel she put it around herself while another got twirled around her hair. She stepped out of the bathroom and went into her room.

Sherlock continued to play his violin, lost in the music. Eventually however, he sighed, the boredom taking over, and set his violin back in its leather case. He sat tapping on the arm of his chair, feeling a bit bored.

Molly went to the small wardrobe and picked out a pair of long cotton pajama bottoms and a black vest top donning them after putting on some underwear. She towel dried her hair and brushed threw it and making it into a plait once she was dressed, well dressed in pajamas, it was a 'lazy day' after all.

Putting the towels on the racks back in the bathroom, she quickly sprayed some deodorant and made her way bar foot down the stairs back to Sherlock, to see him sitting in his chair, looking rather bored. "Hey," she said coming to sit across from him in John's old chair, pulling her feet up underneath her.

He looked up, smiling slightly "Feeling better?" he asked, a small smile curving his mouth as he took in the sight of her.

"Yes thank-you," She replied returning his smile as she got settled in the chair. "I feel more human," Molly chuckled.

Sherlock laughed aloud, seeming to be back to the person he was when he was with her. He hesitated, then spoke "I know we want to have a lazy day...but I think we should discuss what we're going to do about Mark"

Molly groaned and dropped her head to the arm of the chair, "It was going so well," She said with a small pout forming on her lips. _To be honest_, she thought to herself, _I hadn't thought about Mark or that whole situation, not all morning, or afternoon, depending which way you look at it_.

He sighed, and walked over, sitting cross legged on the ground in front of her "What he has been doing is assault and harassment...we could call Lestrade...?"

She looked at him for a moment, then turned away. "It would be useless to involve Lestrade, there's no proof. It would be my word against his. I could have got these bruises anywhere," Molly wouldn't look him in the eye, she believed if she called the police, or Lestrade it would make matters worse, things could escalate.

Sherlock sighed, moving across the room and taking her hands "Alright. Then what would you like to do? Ignoring it certainly doesn't seem to be helping"

"I don't know Sherlock. Last time this happened I-I said I was sorry, and went back to...well you know." Calling Lestrade may help, she'd have to make a decision today.

He squeezed her hand lightly "Alright" he said softly "Come on. I have an idea of something that will cheer you up, alright? I just have to shower and get dressed, then we can go"

"Yeah, okay." Molly got up and followed him upstairs, ready to go into her room and get dressed properly.

He walked into his bedroom, and emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. He realized he'd left most of his clean laundry in the main room, and went to fetch it.

Molly got dressed choosing a pair of dark blue jeans and a white blouse, putting some plimsols on her feet. Touching up her face with a little bit make up he went downstairs to wait for Sherlock. She walked into the living room only to see him bent over a pile of clean washing. Molly's mouth went dry, in nothing but a towel. She cleared her throat.

Sherlock turned, standing up straight away. He was well built for such a lean man, with clearly defined muscles under his pale skin. He looked at her sheepishly, grabbing the clean clothes and saying "Sorry I...I forgot to get my...um...I'll just be..." he shuffled toward the hall, looking embarrassed, pink patches on his cheeks.

Molly's eyes glided over his chest taking in his smooth chest, down to his defined abdominal muscles and right down to where the lines of his hips disappeared beneath the towel. She snapped back up to his face and saw it was a deep red, he stuttered shuffling past her. She smirked, wanting to say something cheeky but thought better of it. She milled about, tidied up a few bits of paper that where on the floor and wandered into the kitchen. Pouring herself a glass of orange juice, sat down at the table and waited for Sherlock to return.

As he showered and dressed, he couldn't help but think about the way her eyes had lingered over his body. He blushed red thinking of it, but quickly dried himself off, and dressed in a button up and, unusually, a pair of jeans He emerged, smiling at Molly "ready?"

Molly looked up expecting him to be stood there in one of his tailored suits looking as sharp as ever, what she saw was a pleasant. She'd never seen him in anything else, well apart from pajamas. Nodding she placed her glass beside the sink and went to get her coat, scarf and gloves. "You…um, the jeans, they suit you." She said with a smile.

He smiled nervously "Thank you. I wouldn't wear a suit to where we are going" he smiled broadly "I think you'll have fun" He shrugged on a coat, not his usual belstaff but something much more casual. He extended his hand to her "Ready?"

Molly was curious and looked down at her attire, "Will this be okay?" she frowned and then added, "Am I allowed to know where we're going?" she took his hand.

"Yes and no" he said, rather smugly.

Molly rolled her eyes, she wasn't surprised she had a feeling she wouldn't be allowed to know, "That's not fair." She pouted and followed him downstairs.

He laughed, hailing a taxi. One stopped in front of them and he opened the door for her, rounding the car to murmur the location to the driver, who looked at him in surprise, nodding. Sherlock got in the cab, and they drove off.

Molly climbed in getting settled, turning to see Sherlock only just making his way back around the cab to get in. Odd… "Okay, now I am curious. You don't even let me hear the address,"

Sherlock lounged languidly on the seat, a smile quirking his lips as they drove. Soon they had left the city, moving to the outskirts. The day was brisk, but not horribly cold. As they turned a corner, Sherlock's hand shot out, covering Molly's eyes. He grinned "I'm going to blindfold you with my scarf, alright?"

Molly was watching the city go by, it was beginning to get slightly dark again, not pitch black but they had slept for most of the day. She let out a little yelp as Sherlock's hand covered her eyes, "Yes," she said laughing getting a little giddy with nerves, "What's with the cloak and dagger routine?"

He blindfolded her as the cab slid to a stop "Come back and get us in two hours" he said to the cabbie, guiding Molly out. They walked along a path, the ground slightly bumpy underfoot.

Molly reached around trying to grab onto any piece of Sherlock, couple of times nearly tripping, "Can I take it off yet?"

He held her up two steps of what was clearly a porch, and knocked on a door. The door opened, and a blast of warm toffee scented air hit them. A woman's voice said "Sherlock?! Oh welcome back! Who's your friend?" It was clear from Sherlock's voice that he was smiling "Molly Hooper."

Hands fumbled with the scarf's knot, and then it was pulled away from Molly's eyes.

They were in a small house, very warm and smelling like an old fashion candy shop, most likely due to the room off to the side that had comfortable couches, chairs, and poufs, and shelves lined with big jars of toffee and chocolate. A petite older woman stood before them, an apron on and a bit of flour on her nose "Welcome, Miss Molly" she said cheerfully.

Molly's eyes went wide as she surveyed the room, it was in a word; beautiful. It was old it was rustic, so very Molly. She immediately felt at home. Molly sent Sherlock a smile before turning to the lady, "Thank-you." She gazed around in a trance, taking in all the soft colors, "This place is wonderful..." Trailing off, she didn't know what to say.

"I'm not finished yet. Joanne, we'll be in the side room"

"Alright dear!" called the woman cheerfully, from where she'd retreated to in the kitchen.

"I brought you here" began Sherlock, guiding her by the hand "Because I know you love cats and...Joanne happens to be a foster Mom."

He opened the door, and flicked on the light. Inside a huge room were at least two dozen kittens and young cats, jumping around play equipment, chasing bells, batting at feathers, sleeping on cushions. Sherlock leaned against the doorframe, smiling at Molly.

As soon as Sherlock opened the door to where the cats where housed she didn't know what to expect. Her mouth hung open at just how many cats there were, she beamed at Sherlock, "This is- Sherlock this-" she turned back to look at the cats, they were beautiful, some small and tiny, some bigger, some black, white, ginger. Molly was in her element, she threw her arms around Sherlock's neck and kissed him, full on the mouth, pulling back a bit, "You're amazing, this is amazing! Thank-you." she dashed off into the room.

He watched her go, slightly dumbfounded, mostly exceedingly happy. Joanne turned up behind Sherlock "She must be someone special for you to have brought her here"

Sherlock nodded, a small smile on his face "She's very special. And...how is _she_, Joanne?"

Joanne sighed "We're doing our best Sherlock, but her condition isn't improving"

Molly sat on the floor having taken off her scarf and gloves she began to pet the cats, soon there were at least seven around Molly, climbing on her lap, playing with the balls that hung from her coat hood. She didn't know which one she should fuss next. Looking up she saw the woman who greeted them behind Sherlock, Joanne, that's what he called her. Molly smiled sheepishly and sent them both a small wave, thinking it wasn't appropriate of her to be sitting down with all the cats.

Sherlock walked over and sat cross legged beside her, and instantly the cats were climbing all over him. He laughed, looking as though he had an undersized living sweater on "I'm here a lot" he explained

"They _know_ you," Molly said surprised, "All this time, I thought you hated cats, or pets in general." She nudged his shoulder, "Turns out you're a closet cat-lover." Molly look down at the cats that were still in her lap if she could she would keep them all, take them all home with her, but she knew she couldn't. The thought of Sherlock coming here whether it was to see Joanne or visit his feline friends it made her heart swell.

"Ah...yes. I suppose so" he said with a light smile on his face. He then stood, and said "There's just one more thing I need to do" he walked to a small area off in the corner of the room, a sort of alcove like a closet without a door. He knelt in front of it, leaning forward and extending a hand to something within.

Molly picked up one of the black, bigger cats that hadn't left her alone since she came and sat down. The cat nuzzled her face purring, as it rubbed its face into Molly necks causing her to giggle. She peered at Sherlock, trying to see what he was doing, but eventually she got distracted by the cat. That had taken an interest into Molly's fur hood.

He picked up something from the closet, and carried it over to Molly "This is Lyla" he said, sitting down. There was a very small cat in his arms, curling and making small mewing noises.

Molly placed the black cat down as Sherlock sat down, she moved closer to him, putting her hand on his arm her finger stretched out to strong the small kitten, "She's beautiful," Molly whispered, smiling up at Sherlock.

He set the kitten gently on the ground, and it became very apparent why the kitten was left alone. She had a stump for one of her front legs, and half of one of her ears was missing "Lyla was a feral kitten, who was hurt when a fox found the litter." he said "She's 7 months old. There are a few kittens and cats back in that alcove who can't handle the rough play out here with the others" he sighed deeply, scratching Lyla behind the ear.

"That's awful." Molly said running a finger down Lyla's back, she looked at Sherlock who was looking intently at the little kitten. She knew that look on anyone, she wears it herself when she is with Toby.

"You've bonded haven't you?" Molly asked softly, she rest her chin on his shoulder looking down at Lyla with him.

He looked up, a small smile on his face "Well...maybe just a bit" he responded, picking up Lyla and cradling her. She looking up at him, purring "They found her when she was just 5 weeks old, and I've visited every other week since then. She's quite a trooper"

"She certainly is." She said and brought her other hand up to rest on against Sherlock's upper back creating small circles with her thumb, while the other one stroked Lyla. "I love you." Molly murmured, her attention on the kitten who was currently in Sherlock's arms.

Sherlock looked at her wordlessly, then said quietly "Do you think...do you think I would be able to...to take care of her well?" His father's words of how he broke everything he touched rang in his head, but he attempted to shake them off.

Molly gave him a nod and smiled, "Sherlock you already are," seeing his confused look she carried on, "Just by coming here fussing her, holding her is already telling her that she has someone. While Joanne is here every day taking care of her physically, you're the one showing her love." Molly looked down at the kitten, "I think Lyla would make a lovely companion for you Sherlock...and you her."

Sherlock leaned over, and gently kissed Molly. He picked up Lyla, took a deep breath, and went to go talk to Joanne.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Molly watch him leave with pride. A thought occurred to Molly as she stood picking up her scarf and gloves. What if Sherlock didn't want or wouldn't allow Toby there once he got Lyla home? He was quite mellow when it came to other cats, he was getting on a bit, and he generally left other cats alone. She would just have to move back into her flat, something that she didn't want to do just yet but she would do it if it meant Sherlock could have the opportunity of raising Lyla. Molly felt something brush her leg and saw that it was the black cat fro before, picking up the feline she went to sit in one of the chairs in the room. Placing the cat on her lap, she started to stroke under its chin, waiting for Sherlock to come back.

Sherlock returned looking quite happy, carrying Lyla, who was now attached to a small leashed and harness and was wrapped in a small blanket "Thank you for giving me the courage to do this Molly!"

Molly grinned and chuckled, "You already had the courage in you, I just gave you a kick up the bum."

"The cab will be back any minute, but Joanne said she'd loan me some cat food and...that one certainly seems to like you, doesn't he?" he indicated the black cat.

She looked down and the cat who had fallen asleep on her lap, its head nestled near her stomach, Molly hummed, "He does, doesn't he. Maybe we could come back and visit him?" She asked and carefully moved the cat off her lap, and onto the chair.

"Or maybe you could bring him along, and he could be friend with Toby and Lyla" he said, feeling slightly foolish.

Relief came over Molly as he said that, "Maybe but not now," Molly moved to stand in front of Sherlock peering at Lyla, "You've got to get used to having this one around the flat. And then, when I bring Toby, it's going to be a bit crowded. Also, a big change for you."

"Big change indeed" he mumbled, pulling on his coat and offering her hers. "I've never owned a pet before" he smiled, looking a bit nervous

"I'm not going to say it will be easy, but if you're determined give her the attention that she needs. You'll do fine and I'll be there to help, whenever you need it." Molly slipped her coat on, "Experiments. You can't have chemicals around with her there. I mean, I know she's not going to be jumping around for a while but better to be safe than sorry."

Sherlock nodded, taking in every word "Agreed. I think it'd be best to take a break from experiments for a bit anyway. I ah...burned my leg a bit with some chemicals, so...I'm a bit put off by that" he shrugged "the cabs here! Goodbye Joanne! Merry Christmas" he took Molly's hand, and tugged her outside, carrying his precious bundle wrapped up in her blanket.

Molly bid Joanne farewell and a Merry Christmas. They walked to the cab, and Molly held the door open for Sherlock this time, watching him get in.

"You burnt your leg?" Molly asked once they were situated in the cab, slightly concerned look on her face, "When? Do you want me to have a look at it when we get back to your flat? You can never to too careful with burns."

"It's ah...it's not too bad and it's um..." Sherlock pet the cat to avoid looking at her, seeming suddenly very tense.

"Sherlock, is the burn above the knee?" Molly asked seeing his unease, the same unease she saw when they were in her bedroom.

He nodded, avoiding her eye as the cab drove. He felt a distinct squirming sensation in his stomach, and tried to comfort himself by stroking his new cat.

Molly sighed, "Sherlock I won't-I'd never..." She glanced at the driver and then back to Sherlock, "I won't look at it if you don't want me to Sherlock. I'm not going to take advantage if you did let me. You know that. It's just you can't leave burns un-treated, no matter how big or small. They could get infected." She sighed again when he still didn't look at her. Molly turned and looked out of the window, watching as gradually they came back to the city.

"Thank you" he mumbled "I suppose after we get Lyla situated...you could have a look" as they pulled into London, Sherlock reflected that in just two days he had developed a...was it a relationship? Was that the word?...with Molly Hooper, had her move in (albeit temporarily), divulged feelings about his family that he never had before, showed her his scars, and gotten a cat. In two days. He shook his head as they pulled up to 221B, wondering what the next day would bring.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

As they drove, many thoughts were running around Molly's head. For instance, did she just get a cat with Sherlock Holmes? No, surely not. Lyla was _his_ cat. She'd moved in, had a mini break down in front of him, declared her love for him, share a _bed _with him and admitted being a victim of, was it domestic abuse? She and Mark were never really a couple, she didn't know which category it fell under. As they pulled up to 221 Molly passed some notes and thanked the driver.

Sherlock held the door open for her as usual, a smile on his face. He still felt slightly edgy, but every time the kitten moved he felt a warmth rising in his chest, and every time he saw Molly smile he felt a leap of happiness. "Let's get her set up" he said. He entered the flat, and said "We'll have her in my room. It's usually kept quite warm by the heater." He carried the blankets, cat food, and dish to the spot in the alcove in his room, near the heating vent. He set up everything, then set Lyla down, letting her move round, sniffing and getting used to the new home.

Molly him into his bedroom, looking around having never been in here before. She smiled to herself when she saw the periodic table picture. She moved over to where Sherlock had set up everything for Lyla, "She looks at home already," Molly look at the little house area he'd created with the blankets that were built up but so that it dipped into the middle creating a nestle spot.

Lyla had curled up in the blankets and gone to sleep. As Sherlock stood, he winced. It was easier to detect now that Molly knew that he had hurt his leg.

Molly decided to take the stern approach, "You have a first aid it in the bathroom, I'll get that, you go and sit on the dining table." She raised an eyebrow, "If you don't let me, I'm calling John and he can come and play Doctor with you."

Sherlock looked up at her, hesitated, then nodded. He went to sulk, sitting at the table. Fidgeting anxiously, he waited for Molly.

Molly retrieved the first aid kit and walked into the kitchen coming round she stood in front of him, looking down at his trousers. Just treat this as anyone else who would need doctoring she thought to herself you won't be doing Sherlock any good if he sees you clam up. She gave Sherlock a soft smile, trying to reassure him, "Sherlock I can't see through clothing." Molly said quietly, gesturing to his jeans.

He hesitated, stood, undid the zip of his jeans, and stepped out of them, sitting again. The burn was bad. His boxers were black (typical) and the burn was visible halfway under his boxers, but the part that was below their edge was an angry red color. He mumbled something about it not hurting that much.

Molly chose to ignore his remark about it mot hurting, because she knew it wasn't true and opened the kit and pulling on some medical gloves she took out an antiseptic wipe. She looked up at Sherlock, "I'm sorry, this is going to sting," starting at the bottom of it Molly, as gently as she could, started to dab the area that was red.

He winced, gripping the edges of the chair, his teeth gritted. He felt very exposed, in his boxers and t-shirt in front of her. He tried not to think about where her hand was and instead focused on the fact that this would, after all, help.

When Molly was finished with the more inflamed half, she pulled back and reached to get another wipe. She turned to Sherlock, "I know this makes you uncomfortable, believe me I hate that I'm the one making you feel this way but I need you to show me the rest of the burn," Molly offered the wipe, "I can go, and leave you to do it by yourself if you want?"

He hesitated, pulling up the edge of his boxers all the way up, almost to his hip. It was clear that there had been quite a bad burn. He thanked his lucky stars that he didn't have to actually take off his boxers to show her the injury. But he still avoided her eye.

"Ouch," Molly said as she looked at the burn, "Okay, like before this will sting. I'll be as quick as I can." She started to dab and wipe the whole area. Throwing the wipe away Molly grabbed a gauze from the box putting some burn cream on it she laid it over the burn, and then got the medical tap, "Hold that there," moving Sherlock's hand on top of the white pad, she quickly stuck the edges down, very careful of the fact that one side was very near a certain part of him. Moving back she pulled her gloves off admiring her handy work, "All done." She turned away from him to pack up the box.

"Thank you" he said, hurriedly pulling on his jeans and standing "ah...thank you Molly, very much."

His reaction to him touching her slightly offended her, she knew that he wasn't comfortable being vulnerable, or exposed, but she was beginning to think that he didn't or wouldn't _want_ her. Molly shrugged, "Its okay. You'll have to change the dressing tomorrow and add more cream, oh and not get it wet tonight, but other than that," she turned around to face him still holding the green box, "you're good to go."

"Thank you" he said quietly, and then paused. He hesitated, then turned, touching her arm "Molly, please do not misunderstand" the young genius looked uncomfortable, and was staring fixedly at a spot on the tile beside his right sock. "It is not that I do not wish you to...to touch me, it is just that...as I have told you, I have no experience in such matters and am as of yet not comfortable and...I don't...want to upset you."

"I understand Sherlock I really do." She turned to look at him even though he was looking at the floor, "Not being intimate, physically with you isn't the problem." She sighed and moved to head to the bathroom, "I just thought you might know me a little better, and trust me a bit more to know that I would never take advantage of you like that. I could never make you something you didn't want to do."

He watched her go, his mouth slightly open, and then sighed, shuffling off to bed with his shoulders slumped. He dressed in his pajamas, and crawled into his own bed. He curled under the thin sheet, letting out a soft sigh. He heard a scrabbling, and looked over the edge of the bed where Lyla was trying to climb the bed. He reached down and scooped her up, depositing her on the pillow. She curled up beside his head, and he slept into a restless sleep, letting out soft whimpers and murmurs as he dreamed.

Molly placed the box back in the cabinet above the sink and sat on the side of the bath, putting her head in her hands she left out a shaky breath. She'd said what was on her mind, she'd told him the truth but why did it feel like a huge, massive mistake? Wringing her hands she went into John's bedroom and picked out her night clothes, slamming the door a bit too hard. Molly was dressed in her pajamas when she realized she hadn't looked at her phone all day. She crept downstairs into the kitchen snatching it from the counter and headed back upstairs, she climbed into bed sitting up.

40 texts, 25 missed calls and 4 voice mails, she braced herself for what she was about to read.  
From: Mark  
You know ignoring me won't make me go away Molly. I could always come to your flat, have you ever thought of that? I accessed your medical records, all your information is on there. Including a very interesting "next of kin"

Molly scrolled up,  
Mark: You're a little bitch do you know that! Answer your PHONE!

Mark: We had something Mols, can't you see that I just want you?  
Mark: I bet you're with that freak  
Mark: You are aren't you? I knew it!  
Mark: You're nothing but a cheap whore Molly. I wonder what Toby the cat would think if he knew his precious mummy was sleeping around.

Molly's whole body went cold, she quickly threw back her covers and scrambled out of bed. Picking her up clothes she got changed again she yanked open her door and clattered down stairs.

Sherlock had awoken when the door slammed. He paused, listening "molly?" he mumbled. He heard the door slam again, the clattering of someone going down the stairs, and leapt to his feet. He KNEW it, his father was right he had spoiled everything. He HAD to go after her. Not even bothering to put on shoes, he sprinted after her "Molly!" he called, hoping to catch her before she got into a cab.

Someone called her name but she wasn't listening, she HAD to get to Toby, she was pacing back and forth along the curb waiting for a cab to show up. Molly let out a growl of frustration she was practically seething and shaking with anger and fear, not for her but for Toby...and Mrs. Richardson. "Come on!" She hissed to no one.

A bang from behind her made her spin around to see Sherlock stumble out the front door.

Sherlock gasped out "Molly...I'm so so sorry...I didn't mean...to offend...Molly please...forgive me..."

"What?" Molly asked puzzled, then she remembered the last thing she said to Sherlock, "No! No! It's not you- it's-" Molly shook her head and turned away from him frantically looking down each end of the road, "I have to get to Toby!" Molly threw up her arms, "And there's no blasted cabs!"

Sherlock grabbed her hand, tugging her down a side street that led to an entirely different road, bustling with cabs. "What's happened to Toby?!" He asked as he hailed one of them.

"I don't know!" She cried, "Mark-his texts I read them, it said something about Toby and I just-" Molly jumped in the cab, and put a hand on Sherlock's chest as he tried to get in, "You have to stay here, you aren't dressed and there's Lyla to think about," taking a deep breath, "Phone Lestrade, this is getting out of hand." She pulled him in for a kiss, "I'll be fine, I promise."

Sherlock hesitated, and nodded. He kissed her, then turned and sprinted back up the street, dashing into 221b and phoning Lestrade. He dressed himself just as Lestrade pulled up.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The ride to Molly's flat was the longest one she'd ever experienced. She chucked money at the cabbie and sprinted up to her building. Punching in the code her shot down the hall to her and Mrs. Richardson's flat, nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to see what she was about to see.

Sherlock was now dressed as he usually was, in a neatly tailored suit, though his curls were still a mess. He got into the police car, and as they drove he explained everything. Lestrade listened, looking grim, and when they pulled up to Molly's and saw the door hanging open, Sherlock burst out of the car and sprinted up the steps.

Molly banged on the door to Mrs. Richardson's flat and took her keys out to unlock her door, she walked in.

Everything was strewn all over, her flat was literally upside down she walked into the living room, the sofa was sliced, the bookcase beside the television was knocked over, the contents thrown around the room. Slowly she walked into the kitchen and let out a blood curdling scream.

Sherlock let out a yell "MOLLY!" he tore down the hallway, saw the door open on his left, and burst through it, sprinting into the kitchen with Lestrade on his heel. He skidded to a stop at the kitchen entryway.

"No, no, no, no!" Molly cried, she fell to her knees where Toby's lifeless body was laid and picked him up into her arms, stroking his head, hoping for a miracle that he would start purring. It didn't happen, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She mumbled rocking back and forth, "Oh god Toby,"

Sherlock knelt beside her, touching her gently on the arm. Lestrade stood back, looking grimly at the mess and at Molly, and calling in an extra unit and crime scene techs. Sherlock put his arm around Molly and whispered "I'm sorry...I'm so so sorry" He felt anger for Mark boiling inside him, but kept it at bay, knowing that right now Molly needed him.

"No," she continued to say over and over, everything was blur all she could think of was Toby. She recoiled from Sherlock's arm, "You can't take him," she pressed her face into her arm which hand Toby's head, "Don't take him. Please."

"I won't" said Sherlock gently "I won't, and I won't let anyone else, not until you're ready to let go. But listen to me, Molly. We have to leave the crime scene, alright? They have to get enough evidence that we can prove who did this...And we'll find Mark, and bring him to justice. For Toby" he brushed her tears away with his thumb "Come on Molly, let's go. Please"

Clutching Toby to her chest she stood, "I'm terrible. I should never have let this happen," she started to cry as the got into the hall. She shied away from the swarms of police and techs in white suits. Molly head shot up wide eyed, "Helen!" She exclaimed, "Where is she?"

"Who?" asked Sherlock, eyebrows furrowed. He turned to look at her, concern etched on his face. Having grown very fond of Lyla, he couldn't imagine how he'd feel if he found her as Molly had found Toby, and he wasn't sure how stable her frame of mind was.

"Helen!" Molly shook her head trying to get the fuzz out of her mind, "Mrs.-Mrs. Richardson she was looking after Toby when-" she looked at the door frame of next door to see the wood all cracked, "Oh my god," Molly nodded her head to the flat, "Sherlock..."

Sherlock turned "LESTRADE!" he shouted, and yanked open the door, looking around inside, calling "HELEN RICHARDSON?!" to the flat, praying to hear a response. For once, the game was not a fun one. This was not fascinating, this was not intriguing, this was Molly's cat and neighbor and abusive ex and he would PAY, for all of this.

Lestrade and four uniformed officers sprinted past Molly as she started to slide down the wall, she feared the worst.

"I'm here-" came a broken voice, "Help!" The female voice yelled a bit loud. She couldn't move, her face felt huge, her chest felt tight.

Sherlock turned a corner and fell to his knees beside a middle aged woman, touching her cheek "Listen to me, my name is Sherlock Holmes, Molly brought me here, you're safe now alright?" he turned to Lestrade "CALL PARAMEDICS NOW!"

"She-she didn't tell me you were a handsome one," Helen quipped, swallowing painfully. Lestrade yelled at one of his officers to do as Sherlock had said.

Sherlock pulled her head into his lap, and laughed reassuringly "That's it, keep talking to me. It'll be fine. You'll be fine"

"He was too strong. I tried to bolt the door but he must-" Helen hissed as her breathing got shallow, "kicked it in, I didn't know what to do."

Meanwhile outside, "Laura!" Molly called to one of the crime scene techs. She was a friend of Molly's. Molly stood, gently offering Toby, "Take care of him, please." She sobbed as she handed her faithful friend over.

"Of course I will. I'm so sorry Molly."

Molly nodded numbly and watched her go. She sat back down as the emotions of everything hit her and once.

Sherlock looked up as the paramedics arrived, and began to talk very fast "at least three broken ribs, rapidly collapsing lung, plenty of scrapes and contusions, cut on the left temple needs immediate treatment" they nodded and loaded her onto a stretcher, carrying her out.

Sherlock left the flat, going to Molly "Molly..." he whispered, and tentatively attempted to hug her, hesitant should she not want him to.

She sighed deeply. "I don't understand." She shook with silent sobs, "Toby was innocent in all this. He didn't deserve this- and Helen-Mrs. Richardson! Is she...?"

"No, she'll be alright" reassured Sherlock, gently encircling her in his arms "She'll be fine. And...and I'm here, and we'll get _him_ for this, I promise, I swear to you Molly he won't get away with this"

Letting out a shaky breath she pressed her face into his neck, grabbing his hand when it came around her, "I'm sorry for what I said. I'm so sorry." She pulled back and looked at him, "This probably isn't the time, and you'll think I'm not in my right mind but-Sherlock, you...mean everything to me. This-everything has been put it in to perspective."

He pulled her close to his chest and whispered "Molly, I love you. You are everything and more. Never forget that"

She sighed and leaned into him, she felt safe whenever she was in his arms, "I love you too." Molly moved back with a shaky breath and looked around. There was crime scene tape on her door along with Mrs. Richardson's, uniformed officers bustling about, crime scene technicians carrying their kit in and out the building. "Oh god," she said, "this is out of control Sherlock. I've never…why would he do this?" Molly asked, a tired look on her face.

"I don't know" he said, gritting his teeth "but you can stay with me as long as you wish. In fact..." He hesitated, then continued "you can stay with me for good if you like"

Move in with him for good?! Molly didn't know what to think, on one hand it would be easier, she knew she couldn't live in her flat, not after what happened. On the other hand, was she and Sherlock ready to make that big of a move, they both had issues, they both had a lot to work through. "For good?" Molly looked at him intently a little wide eyed, "You don't think that's a bit...soon?"

Sherlock bit his lip, and then spoke his mind "Molly, I have spent 3 years in love with you, pushing you away. And I don't want to wait any longer...but...but if you aren't ready, then don't. I just want you...safe."

She blushed and looked down, Molly still wasn't used to Sherlock saying sweet things like that, she was always stuck waiting for a snide remark or a huff and flourish of his coat. Molly gazed around and landed her eyes on his, "Can I, can I think about it," Molly gestured at the business around them, "I mean after all this, and I'm living with you now, it's not as if I'm going anywhere soon." Molly finished with a halfhearted chuckle.

He nodded, a small smile on his face "Of course" he said softly "Come on. Let's get away from here, you need a bit of peace and quiet" he gave her a quick hug and a soft kiss.

Lestrade, Sally Donovan, and Anderson all stared, along with most of the crime techs, at this singularly odd sight.

She stood, but didn't make any move to leave, "Aren't you going to, you know do your 'thing'" Molly said, "I don't mind, I need to step out and get fresh air. You never know you might find something." She laid a hand on his chest, reached up and kissed him rousing other looks of surprise and confusion from the gaggle of police officers and the like.

He looked at the crime scene, already half in his analyzing mode, and murmured "Alright...but don't wander off. I want you...safe" he brushed a bit of hair out of her eyes "Stay close. Promise?"

Molly gave him a small smile seeing him at work, "I promise, there's dozens of police out there, I'll be fine Sherlock," she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, "Go and be a genius."

He kissed her one last time, and then turned to the scene, looking more his old self, his striking quicksilver and blue eyes darting around, picking up traces, hints, clues. He crouched in the kitchen, trying to block the mental image of Molly kneeling beside her dead companion. He checked under the kitchen table, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a droplet of blood. Toby hadn't bled. From the looks of it, he had died of...but no. He would not go there, and would certainly not tell Molly. He stood, indicating the blood drop to a crime tech wordlessly. He went to the other flat, his eyes raking the scene, occasionally pointing out bits of evidence that could eventually be used in a court case, including a discarded workman's glove that certainly didn't belong there.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Molly wandered down the hall and ventured outside, the cold her hit her like a brick wall, pulling her coat around her she walked a ways and leant against a fence about ten feet away from the entrance to her building. Molly didn't know whether she was coming or going, there was a whirlwind going on inside her head she tried to clear her mind, hoping the cold fresh air would work but no such luck. Bowing her head she closed her eyes, she was so tired, she felt like she hadn't slept in a week. Molly tensed when she heard a very familiar voice to her left.

"Hello Molls." Mark smiled darkly at her, and licked his lips.

Sherlock was on his hands and knees in the hall, examining a few fibers on the carpet. He sighed deeply, trying to focus, but his thoughts were on Molly He sat up, and turned to find his face level with Lestrade's crotch. Evidently the man had walked up behind him. Scowling, Sherlock stood "What is it?" he asked waspishly.

Lestrade cleared his throat and then said "Ah...Sherlock...are you in a..._relationship_...with Molly?"

"That's none of your concern" snapped Sherlock, turning and stalking back to Molly's apartment to seek out more of the fibers.

Molly looked back to where the police were stationed, and back to Mark, "You-you shouldn't be here." Molly could feel the anxiety building as she started to shake a little.

"Molly, Molly, Molly," Mark tutted as he moved out the cover of an alley and towards her, "You know why I'm here."

"Why did you have to bring Toby into this, why did you kill him? What did he do to you?" She rushed.

Mark bobbed his head, "I had to get your attention somehow didn't I?"

"No!" Molly gasped and turn to run.

"Ah! Ah!" Mark said as he grabbed her arm and slung her against the fence, "Where are you going Molly?"

Sherlock stiffened. He felt, rather than heard, that something was wrong.

"Molly" he whispered, whirling to face the door. He shoved aside crime scene techs, but they hindered him like a wall. "MOLLY!" he shouted at the top of his voice, starting to panic. He KNEW something was wrong, he felt as though stones were being piled one by one on his chest. Lestrade looked startled "Sherlock, what's going-"

"MOLLY!" this time it was an anguished yell as Sherlock struggled to get though the press of investigators in the hall.

Molly let out a groan as her back slammed ito the fence. Marks hand went around her throat.

"Mark-" she struggled to get out, the wind had blown from her lungs and now she couldn't get any in because of his hand, her nails scrapped at his wrist and the back of his hand, "Please!" She squawked out.

"No!" He whispered in her eye, "YOU'RE going to listen. You ignored me, big mistake. You ran off with Detective Freak, you-you left me!" He growled.

"You-you was never mine to leave-ow!" Molly winced as Mark's fist connected with her ribs.

"You're mine and I'm yours. Molly I love you."

"You don't love me," she croaked, black spots coming into her vision, she could feel the bruises forming on her neck, "Mark, please," she whispered as Mark pressed her even more against the fence.

Sherlock burst out of the door, his eyes flitting around, until he spotted them. Lestrade followed after, but froze as he saw the look twisting the face of Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock was sprinting forward in an instant, tearing Mark's arms away from Molly's throat, an animalistic noise ripping out of his chest as he slammed mark to the ground, knelt on his chest, and proceeded to slam his fists into the man's face, again and again, a snarl on his face, his eyes glittering with flat fury.

Molly sucked in a gasp of air as Mark's hand was removed, a black blue landed on him as she crumpled to the ground.

Lestrade and Donovan were hot on Sherlock's heels, "Sherlock!" He roared as the younger man slammed himself into another man. "SHERLOCK! Stop!" He called as he tore Sherlock off the now bloody man.

A stream of foul cursewords flooded out of Sherlock's mouth, and then he roared "LET ME GO! I WILL KILL HIM WITH MY BARE HANDS IF IT IS THE LAST THING I EVER DO!" He thrashed against Lestrade's grip

"Stop it! NOW!" Lestrade shouted and continued to pull Sherlock away. Donovan came to help Lestrade.

"Sherlock," Molly whispered as she tried to sit up. Uniformed officers swarmed onto Mark.

Sherlock paid no heed at first, but at the sound of Molly whispering his name, he froze. His face was twisted and angry, but as he turned to face her, the aggression slid off his face, replaced by one of concern "Release me" he said to Lestrade "Now. I will not harm him"

Lestrade did as Sherlock asked, or rather demanded but kept a watchful eye on him as he approached Molly. The uniforms carted Mark into the back of a squad car. He pulled out his radio and requested an ambulance for Molly, putting an 'urgent' category on it.

Sherlock was at Molly's side in an instance, sitting beside her and pulling her into his arms, as he had already done twice in the past two days, murmuring "Where does it hurt? What happened? Oh Molly...what has he done to you?"

"Steady Sherlock," Molly groaned as he moved her, "bruised windpipe," she wheezed out," at least two broken ribs. He's got pretty big fists," Molly tried to laugh it off and winced.

Lestrade came back and crouched down beside Molly and Sherlock, "Mark's been taken into custody," he laid a hand on Molly's shoulder, "The ambulance is five minutes away."

"Thank you" said Sherlock quickly to the detective inspector.

He kissed Molly gently on the forehead, holding her firmly but carefully so as not to hurt her "Molly, it's alright they've got him, they have him and he'll never be able to hurt you again. I'm so sorry Molly, I broke my promise, I should've stayed with you, should've been here, oh Molly my God I could've lost you thank God you're alright, thank God he didn't...he could've..." he choked on the words, and fell silent, simply enjoying the reassuring weight of her in his arms.

Lestrade looked on, slightly taken aback. He did not understand what had come over sherlock since he had seen him last, did not know what could possibly change a man like this. It occurred to him that he should call John, but perhaps Sherlock would want to be more composed when his friend arrived, so he let the issue drop from his mind, and instead focused on organizing the chaotic scene.

Molly gave Lestrade a pleading look to which he nodded in return and stepped away taking out his phone selecting John's number, "John, yeah, there's been an incident..."

She moved slightly letting out a gasp, "No, stop it." Molly clutched at Sherlock's suit, "I was the one who wanted to come outside. Don't blame yourself, please. I'd never forgive myself if you were doing that." Molly pleaded, groaning, "God, broken ribs. I haven't had this pain in a while." A pained smile on her lips thinking of the time she fell out of a tree, the one her dad told her not to climb, at the curious age of twelve.

As the ambulance pulled up, Sherlock realized that he was crying. Tears were dripping down his cheeks and into Molly's hair, and he didn't bother to brush them away, simply letting them fall. The paramedics lifted her onto a stretcher, Sherlock gripping her hand.

"I'm fine." Molly mouthed to Sherlock as they wheeled her towards the ambulance, "Stop crying, I can't bear to see you crying over me." She said her own tears breaking the barrier of her eyes. Momentarily letting go of his hand as the paramedics loaded her into the back of the ambulance. She met his eyes again, "Talk to John Sherlock, for me, please, talk to John. You need too."

Sherlock nodded, looking helpless and lost as the ambulance doors slammed and it drove away, the siren screaming and the lights flashing.

He staggered slightly as his legs gave out, and he collapsed, half upright, trembling like a leaf, and breathing in quick shallow gasps.

"Whoa! Steady." John lunged forward and caught Sherlock under his arms, "It's alright mate, come on." He put Sherlock's arm around his shoulder and quickly walked him around the back of Lestrade police car leaning him against the boot.

Sherlock was trembling. He looked up, realizing who it was "John..." he gasped out, and his voice was a rasp "John...he got...I promised her...I failed...John..." he clenched the other man's upper arm in his hand, his head bowed, trying to steady himself.

John looked at Sherlock in shock, what the hell had happened? Where was the frosty cold Sherlock he learned to befriend and love, "Hey, Sherlock listen to me," John grabbed a handful of Sherlock's jacket on his shoulders, "I'm sure that's not the case, I'm positive you tried you best. From what Greg told me you can't be in two places at once." Seeing Sherlock struggling for breath he held his head in one hand, making the genius look at him, "Calm down. Now." John's voice was stern, "Take a breath, there isn't anyone else here. It's just me, your best mate." Knowing Sherlock hated an audience.

Sherlock looked up at him, the flashes of light and fog in his mind slowly clearing. He felt his legs shaking and mentally ordered them to stop, and it seemed that by sheer force of will he regained control of his body "John. I have to tell you...but on the way to the hospital, I have to get her as soon as possible"

John nodded at his friend, and looked around, he grabbed Sherlock's shoulder and pulled him the passenger side of Lestrade's car, "Get in." John ran around to the driver's side and jumped, glad to see the keys on the dashboard. Sticking them into the ignition slot he revved the engine and hauled it down the street.

And as they drove, Sherlock began to speak, his eyes fixed on his shaking hands, willing them to stay still. He told him about college and uni and his scars. He told him about knowing that he loved Molly from the moment he met her, and choosing to push her away. He told her...some of the things about Mark, but did not mention his abuse of Molly, simply stating that Mark had a grudge against her, so she had been staying at 221B. He told him about the texts, and Toby, and when he finished he whispered into the silence of the car "I love her John. I always have"

John listened, he listened to...everything. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, the thought of his best friend going through so much at such a young age, dealing with it the way he did. John sniffled and shook his head to clear the fog, he stopped at a red light and looked at Sherlock as he finished his explanation with a confession of love. "I'm proud of you Sherlock. It's been hard, with your return but I promise you, I will do anything in my power when we get to the hospital, to make sure she is given the best care. Then when she's fine and healthy, because she will be, you and me, are going for a good drink." He finished with a laugh, looking back at the road as the light turned green.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Sherlock let out a dry, unwilling chuckle, but as they turned a corner and the hospital came into view, the smile died on his lips. His jaw clenched, he waited impatiently for them to roll to a stop.

John looked around, and stopped at the emergency entrance, "Go. I'll park-" He realized what car he was in, "I just nicked a police car...a detective inspectors car. Shit." Giving himself a mental shake he turned to Sherlock, "She'll be in resuscitation, go find her. I'll be along in five minutes."

Sherlock nodded, already half out of the car. As it had been the middle of the night when they had left for Molly's, the sun was just coming up over London. He strode up to the desk and said in a commanding voice "Molly Hooper. I'll be seeing her now."

The petite woman jumped in her seat, "Are you a relative, sir?"

"Her husband" said Sherlock, not missing a beat.

The woman nodded and sent him a small smile, she typed furiously on her computer, "It appears Miss Hooper is in resuscitation at the moment Mr. Hooper, if you could please take a seat a doctor will be along when they've finished getting her settled."

Sherlock hesitated, then nodded, turning and taking a seat in a chair in the waiting room, waiting for John and for some news of Molly.

John swung the car into a bay near the entrance, switched the car off and jumped out, clicking the little button to lock it.

"Oi mate! You can't park that there!" Someone shouted.

John quickly whipped out his ID, "Police," he said as he ran past the man, "sort of!" He added running through the double doors.

John marched up to Sherlock, "What have they said?" He asked slightly out of breath.

"They're still looking over her" he murmured, his hands clasped in his lap. "John... If I hadn't got there in time..."

"That's the worst path to go down Sherlock, believe I know." John said quietly, thinking of The Fall. He turned around on the spot, a thought hit him, "Get up, come on." John patted him on his shoulder and turned to walk up to the desk.

Sherlock looked up at his best friend, then nodded, and stood. He followed John, asking "Where are we going?"

John sent him a smug look, he strode up to the desk and pulled out his Army Identification. His best Captain face and authoritative voice falling into place, "Doctor John Watson, I'm Miss Hooper's GP. I'd like to be taken to see my patient, this minute." He sent a sideways glance to Sherlock.

The woman behind the desk looked at the ID John presented her and paled, "Yes sir, uh-Captain-Doctor," she scrambled off her chair and gestured to the double doors to the right, "This way please."

Sherlock shot John a grateful look, striding after the nurse looking slightly anxious.

John put a hand on Sherlock's arm, "I'll wait out here. She'll be fine. If you need me, you know where I am."

He nodded, and entered the room, not sure what to expect "Molly?"


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"Hey," Molly croaked, holding out her hand from where she was laid in the hospital bed. She was hooked up to a IV drip that was in her arm, in the crook of her elbow, along with wires going underneath the top of her hospital gown, there was a steady beep from the heart monitor.

He was at her side in an instant, taking her hand "Molly" he whispered "how do you feel?" immediately he felt stupid. What a terrible question to ask someone in a hospital bed.

She smiled, "Better, wonderful actually." Molly said with a glazed look in her eyes, "This," she gestured languidly to the IV line, "Is _full_ a brilliant pain killer you know." she whispered as if she was letting him in on a secret.

He looked at her carefully for a moment then snort "Molly Hooper. You're high, aren't you?"

"Nooo!" She said in a hushed voice her head lolling to one side waving him off with an overzealous gesture, she turned back at him and bit her lip, "Well...maybe. But you can't tell anyone!" She held her index finger in front of her lips, "Shhh!"

He almost choked laughing, and when he finally regained his control, he managed to sputter out "At least you're doing it legally" he moved to one side of the bed "Scootch" he said, nudging her side.

She tutted, "Won't your skinny backside fit on there," she motioned wildly to the small space beside her but moved anyway.

He slid up onto the bed beside her, putting an arm around her and tucking her close to his chest "You'll be fine" he whispered, smiling slightly

Lestrade walked into the waiting room "John" he said "How is she?

John stood up to greet the Detective, "Greg," he nodded, "Sherlock's with her now. I haven't heard anything back. Last time I spoke to the receptionist they had her settled on pain medication."

Lestrade nodded. He hesitated, then said quietly "so...Sherlock and Molly? Sherlock Holmes is in a relationship?"

John let out a chuckle, "I know, 'mad' doesn't begin to cover it." John sat down again gesturing for Lestrade to do the same, "You should have seen him when the ambulance left, he was on the verge of a panic attack Greg. I didn't know what else to do so I chucked him in your-" John caught himself and suddenly took the look of a school boy about to get told off by the head teacher, "About that, I'm sorry for stealing your car..."

"You did what you had to mate" said Lestrade, clapping him on the back. "I got a ride with Seargent Donovan...though now that you mention it, you do owe me a bit for that. But anyway...I always thought...I mean Sherlock Holmes in a relationship with anyone is a bit odd but...Christ"

"Whatever you want, I'll do it." John was grateful at Greg's reaction. "I knew he had a heart in there somewhere. When I first met him I thought he was this machine that didn't eat, sleep and play his stupid violin at god knows what time in the morning." John sighed and leant forward on his thighs, "Seeing him today though. What happened to Molly almost killed him. He doubted himself."

"Sherlock Holmes doubting himself" mumbled Greg "Never thought I'd see the day"

"It's happened before Greg," John said quietly, "God he'd kill me if he knew I was telling you this."

"What are you talking about?" asked Lestrade, his eyes fixed on John's face.

John hesitated before recalling the time, "Way back, on The Hound case. When Sherlock, Henry and myself went into the woods and to Duers Hollow, Henry swore Sherlock said he saw something, the Hound. Sherlock later that night had a bit of an...episode." John shook his head, "Anyway the next morning he said he felt doubt, he doubted his eyes, the one sense he uses the most, and it let him down. That never happened again until tonight."

Meanwhile, Sherlock was busy tracing patterns in Molly's hair. He murmured "Try to sleep, Miss Hooper"

Molly shook her head defiantly, "I don't want to." She mumbled and moved slightly causing her to hiss in pain.

Sherlock winced at her pain "Molly hold still." he stroked her hair soothingly "Please just try to get some sleep, please, for me..."

She fidgeted again, "Sherlock, I don't want to, I can't get comfy." It came out with a bit more force than she'd hoped.

Sherlock sighed and said "Alright...then...ah..." he tried to think, but found his mind fogged just looking at her face, focusing on the details. And that gave him an idea "What if I tell you a story?"

Molly suddenly perked up a dreamy look on her face, "I love stories!" She gushed, the effects of the pain medication still there.

"Alright..." Sherlock cleared his throat "Once upon a time there was a lonely...child. That child lived in a kingdom that was quite big, and there were many people there, but the child never quite felt he fit in. For a long time the child lived alone, distracting himself. And then, one day, many years later when he was not a child anymore, the boy met another boy, who he became very good friends with..." Sherlock smiled "The lonely boy wasn't sure if he could trust this person, but he did, and a marvelous friendship was born...and the lonely boy didn't feel so lonely after that." He sighed "But..." he hesitated.

Molly sighed happily as she listened to Sherlock's voice, smooth and low. She sunk into his embrace as he spoke of a little boy, a lonely little boy. "You won't be lonely anymore Sherlock." Molly said in a sleepy voice, she lazily grabbed his hand and brought it to rest on her chest just above her heart. With that her hands went slack and she was blissfully in the land of nod.

Sherlock smiled, and as she slept, he continued to speak, his voice soft so as not to awaken her "But the boy one day met...a beautiful girl. And he knew at once he was in love. But he had been lonely too long to trust that easily. So he pushed her into the dirt, and probably gave her some...some injuries that he didn't stick around to help her heal. But..." he took a shaky breath "But when he learned that he could love her without being hurt...he...he..." Sherlock closed his eyes "He knew that if he could, one day he would marry the beautiful girl...and never let anyone hurt her again"


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Molly couldn't breathe. They were there again, those hands around her throat, squeezing, and squeezing all the life out of her. She could hear a rapid beeping noise in the distances but she couldn't bring herself to wake up to see what was causing it. She felt suffocated, like she was in the middle of the ocean, fifty feet under with no oxygen or face down in a centimeter deep puddle and someone was holding her head, "No!" She cried, "Let me GO!" Molly heard rushes of voices, people calling her name.

Sherlock had jumped off the bed and run to the other side where she was thrashing, trying to hold down her arms "HELP! PLEASE!" he shouted "Molly...MOLLY IT'S NOT REAL! Molly you're okay you're say I swear to you! MOLLY!"

Lestrade looked up at the commotion of nurses rushing for a room, and heard Sherlock's voice. He looked at John in alarm "Let's go"

Both the Doctor and the Detective Inspector ran to the room that housed Molly to see Sherlock fighting with her trying to wake her up, "Oh my..." John trailed off and looked on.

Nurses and doctors flew onto the room and pushed Sherlock out the way to get to their patient, clicking buttons shouting out demands all the while trying to rouse Molly, "Miss Hooper!" "Molly! I need you to wake up for me!" "Molly, wake up sweetheart it's not real."

All of a sudden Molly shot up right her eyes wide in alarm, though she wasn't properly awake, trying to rip the IV connection out of her arm.

Sherlock struggled as several nurses held him back, shouting "MOLLY PLEASE! IT ISN'T REAL! MOLLY!"

John looked at Molly and immediately recognised the signs, "Sherlock, shut up!" He hissed, "Everybody stop!" He shouted, not loudly enough to alarm Molly though.

As everyone in the room fell silent, Lestrade signalled for them to move away from Molly's bed.

John sent a look to Sherlock that told him if he moved, he'd punch him. John took a step towards Molly's bed, "Molly," he said softly, "Molly, can you look at me. Just me, no one else. Focus on my voice."

Molly silently lifted her head, looking straight at John, her eyes still holding the glazed look.

John kept moving forward holding his hands up in a non-threatening way, "Molly do you know where you are?" Watching her nodded he continued, "I need you to focus on me Molly. That thing in your arm, it's helping you, it's helping you because you've hurt your ribs."

Molly looked around the room and then back to John who was nearly at her bedside, "Why do my ribs hurt?" She whispered.

"You were attacked, don't you remember?"

"I remember." Molly kept looking at John.

"Molly, Do you know who I am?" John asked her, coming to stand beside her.

"John?" Her face crumpled as she started to cry. He moved forward and gathered her in his arms, "Hey, there we are. It's okay. Welcome back."

John met Sherlock's eyes, "PTSD," he mouthed

Sherlock's face whitened. He knew how serious it could be, for the first few months he had lived with John he had woken up to John screaming and thrashing in his bedroom, but he nearly always snapped out of it straight away. He knew enough to know that this was bad. He looked at John, pleading with his eyes to be allowed to come nearer.

John didn't need to ask Molly, as soon as she'd quieted down she looked up at him, "Where's Sherlock?" She said in a whisper, her voice croaky from the shouting.

John looked up to Sherlock and motioned his head for him to come to Molly. Sensing a glare to anyone stood in his friend's way.

Lestrade looked on absolutely gobsmacked, John moved away from Molly and joined him at the doorway. They looked at each other, "Coffee." They stated together, and left.

Sherlock moved forward, sitting at the edge of her bed, tentatively brushing a few wisps of her hair from her face "Oh my Molly..." he whispered "It's alright...I'm here."

She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes. Her mind was reeling, images flashed around some of Toby, her flat...Mark.

She looked up, almost pitiful, "Sherlock, what's happening to me?" Her voice sounded broken, the croak had gotten worse and her mouth was dry.

"You...you're having some...some negative...um..." he closed his eyes and said "Molly, you're as hurt emotionally as you are physically. But we are all here for you, to help you through it. I promise."

"What happens now?" She asked, looking at the nurses to her left who were writing down something in her notes, frowning slightly.

"We...you...you may need to get some help after you're released from here. Maybe see a therapist. And I'm sure John could talk you through some of this. He's experienced...similar...feelings" Sherlock didn't know what to say, or how to phrase it. It was all so foreign to him.

Molly let out a bitter laugh, "He went to a warzone for a living, I don't see how being harassed having your cat murdered and roughed up a bit compares to being shot an almost killed." She said, raising her voice at the end.

"Any form of PTSD is bad Molly." John's voice came from the doorway.

Sherlock looked up. He hesitated. John had never told him, but Sherlock had deduced several things about John's childhood. He and Sherlock shared several unpleasant things in common, but he'd never spoken to the other man about it. But he let John speak, allowed him to share what he wished.

He held Molly, allowing John to speak.

"You could grow up watching your father beat your mother because he's drunk. Watching your sister go the same way." John came and stood the other side of Molly, "Any of those terrible experiences could cause PTSD. Going to war and seeing unspeakable things, more than once. Or, seeing you cat, lying on the kitchen floor had been murdered, seeing your neighbor beaten to a pulp, getting attack in by someone you thought you could trust at one point." John sighed and sat down, "Watching your best friend die..." He held Molly's hand, "You can't feel guilty for how you've reacted to a stressful situation. It's your body's way of coping. Just know, that we are all behind you. I'm here if you ever need to talk. Sherlock will be there, Greg, Mary...I'm sure Mrs. Hudson would love a cuppa with you." He glanced at Sherlock, "You aren't alone in this." He kissed Molly on the top of her head, nodding to Sherlock he left.

Sherlock let out a long breath. John had done it. He had said everything Sherlock had ever suspected, and Sherlock was astounded at how open and honest he had been. He held Molly gently in his arms, and kissed the top of her head, whispering "Everything's going to be alright"

Molly sunk into his embrace, "The answer is yes by the way..." She was meaning to tell him earlier, she wasn't sure if she did with being high on morphine.

"Hm?" he said softly, looking down at her

Molly played with her hands, looking down at them in her lap, "Earlier, back at the crime scene you said that I could...live with you permanent. I'd like that, if you don't mind living with someone who's going slightly crazy." She finished quietly, silently hoping after what happened he wouldn't reject her. PTSD wasn't something to play around with and it wasn't something you could shrug off lightly.

He tipped her chin with one of his long fingers so that she was looking at him "It would be an honor to share a flat with you, Miss Hooper. No matter what"

"Thank you Sherlock." She said quietly but shook her head, "It won't be easy. I've seen PTSD before, with my brother. It wasn't pretty." She had a far off look on her face.

He touched her face gently with the hand that wasn't around her "Molly, it'll be okay. We'll get through this, I promise." he kissed the top of her head, and murmured "I'm not going anywhere, nor is John. You're stuck with us."

Molly smiled and turned slightly making her wince, the pain medication was wearing off. One of the doctors had stopped the drip when she had her little...episode? Breakdown? Sleep nightmare? She didn't know the term for it, whatever it was, they'd stopped the morphine. Groaning she tried a different position, "Help me sit up? I need a nurse...female nurse."

"Alright" he said, helping her push herself upright as gently as he could. He then slid off the bed and went to fetch a nurse, returning moments later with a middle aged woman in pink scrubs.

"Molly, dear. What seems to be the problem?" The nurse said in a kind voice.

"I-uh," She glanced at Sherlock then back to the pink lady, "I need the loo."

Smiling the nurse came to Molly's side, un-attaching her drip, "I'll just go get you a wheelchair."

Molly scowled at the thought of a wheelchair, placing a hand on her ribs she moved to sit sideways on the bed, revealing a spatter of bruises on her back where her gown had undone slightly.

Sherlock flinched at the sight of her bruises and said "Hold...hold still Molly" he moved forward to retie the back of her gown.

She stiffened as he accidentally touched the skin of her back, "Thank-thank you."

"Already trying to bust out?" John's voice was light, as he and Lestrade stood at the door.

"No" said Sherlock, quickly standing in front of her "Molly, I'll be back"

He wanted to save her the embarrassment of explaining where she was going, so he walked briskly out, calling "John, Lestrade, with me please"

Molly nodded and watched them go, as soon as they'd gone the pink nurse returned.

"Come on then, let's go see to Mother Nature," the nurse joked, causing Molly to smile, she liked this woman.

"Mark's confessed to everything." Lestrade paused as the trio went to stand just outside of the entrance, "He is claiming however, that you beat him up. At the morgue, in front of Molly."

"I did" said Sherlock, his jaw tight "He shoved her, and if you think for one moment that I was going to put up with that..." He closed his eyes, then sighed "Lestrade, I could read their history in the fear on her face and the tension of his shoulders. He hurt her Lestrade, you should see the...the marks..." Sherlock shuddered slightly, attempting to regain control of himself.

John watched his friend struggle with his words he put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

Greg nodded grimly, "You could claim self-defense but it would be very vague. As of yet he hasn't pressed any charges against you, it came up in interrogation, one of my officers gave me a heads up."

"He can press charges if he dares" snarled Sherlock viciously "I'm just glad you were there at the crime scene Lestrade, or you'd have me in cuffs for murder, I can assure you"

John's eyebrows shot up, "Sherlock!" Both he and Lestrade reprimanded.

"Do you think Molly would want you talking like that?" John asked hotly, "She already has enough of her plate, she doesn't need you throwing things like that around.

Sherlock shook his head "You didn't see...John...he..." Sherlock looked away, clenching his jaw "You didn't see the look on her face...he would've...if I haven't gotten there..."

He sighed, leaning against the wall and saying "I can't stop seeing her John. When I close my eyes, I see her...and I was too late. I can't stop...I can't..." he ground the heels of his hand against his eyes, and sighed deeply, refusing to let the tears come with Lestrade standing there.

It wasn't John who spoke, "Sherlock in my line of work I've seen colleagues nearly die, every time I went to sleep at night I saw their faces." Lestrade paused and looked the younger man in the eye, "A suspect got too friendly in an investigation and attacked my daughter. In our own home. We got there, but not after he assaulted and r-" He cleared his throat, "Took my little girls innocence," it came out as a hoarse whisper, "I saw her lying there dead for months, thinking the 'what if I hadn't got there' ..." He trailed off, feeling a sudden lump in his throat, it had been years since he thought about what had happened.

Sherlock looked up at the Detective Inspector, his numbness shattered by what Lestrade had said. Never had he guessed...never had he deduced. He cleared his throat, and said in a voice tight with restrained emotion "How did you get it to...to stop?"

John looked at Greg Lestrade, feeling a dull sense of horror. Losing friends on the battlefield was never easy, but he could never imagine what Greg must have felt when his daughter was attacked.

A proud smile came to Lestrade's face, "I helped put her back together. I started seeing her smiling instead of seeing her vacant face. Now, she's at University, planning to follow in her father's footsteps."

Sherlock smiled at him, a look that Lestrade rarely saw on his face "Alright." he said, standing upright and straightening his jacket "I'll put all my effort into helping her then. I'll keep her as close as possible, which shouldn't be difficult, she's already moving in."

"That's great- wait what?" John's eyebrows met his hairline again, "She's moving in? With you?"

Sherlock looked at him, smiling rather smugly "Indeed she is." he looked at them both, rolling his eyes "Right, you've got questions. Molly should rest, let's got to the hospital cafe and have a chat"


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The trio sat around tables at the hospital café, all clutching Styrofoam cups of coffee. It was Lestrade who spoke first, "Molly has a brother, he's on her records-"

John piped up, "He's in Afghanistan."

"What?!" Sherlock looked at them both in surprise "I didn't...I didn't know that. I mean I knew she had siblings but I didn't know he was a soldier. Has he been informed?"

Lestrade looked at John, waiting for him to continue.

John shook his head, "It's Molly choice to inform him but, yes he's an Infantry soldier. As frontline as you can get. By rights, this is a good enough reason to bring him home, it's up to Molly to decide that." John sighed, "Look I only know because she wanted to know some things, little things, how we're taken care of over there, the support system. She was worried he would... I don't really know if it's my place to even be tell you this."

"I won't let her know you've said anything. I want her to be ready to tell me when she's properly ready" said Sherlock.

He sighed, sipping his coffee. He had a far off look in his eyes, absentmindedly brushing Lyla's ginger fur off his coat.

"John...Greg...What if I mess this up? With Molly I mean. My father used to...he used to tell me I broke everything I touched, and thusfar in my life he has been quite correct. It's...I don't want to hurt her worse, and there's a part of me that thinks I should have her live with me until she's healthy and then have her get her own place, because you know better than anyone John I'm a pain to live with and I-" he was blabbering, he could hear it but couldn't seem to stop.

"You're a pain to work with too." Greg quipped.

Sherlock gave Lestrade a very sarcastic smile, before turning to John.

John tilted his head at Sherlock, there was that doubt again, "Sherlock, I'll be the first to say you can be a prick at times," he smiled, "granted you have weird habits and play that violin at god awful times in the morning but I didn't leave did I?" He sipped his tea, "I'm not there now but I'm still here." He frowned, trying to get the words out, "What I'm trying to say is after all the bad things you've said to Molly, all the times you've pushed her away, she's fallen in love with you in spite of that. She's still here. I know it isn't the most conventional way to start a relationship, but if you're both determined you'll be fine. Don't listen to your father's voice, I never listened to mine."

"Yeah...alright that makes sense" Sherlock took another sip of coffee, feeling a bit calmer. "Thank you" he said quietly.

Lestrade's phone started to ring, "'Excuse me," he stood, answering his mobile and walked to the window of the cafe.

"Hold on, hold on, is that cat hair?" John pointed to the sleeve of Sherlock's Belstaff.

"Ah...yes. I got a cat yesterday" mumbled Sherlock, looking faintly embarrassed.

John looked at his best friend like he'd grown another head a smile creeping up on his face, "You and Molly are going to be fine."

Lestrade came back pocketing his phone and sitting back down next to John, "That was Donovan. Mark's been transferred to prison custody for at least three weeks, until the hearing. In that time I'll need to get yours and Molly statement.

Sherlock grinned at his friend, then turned, taking in what Lestrade was saying. He sighed "Can't it wait? Does it need to be now?"

Lestrade nodded, "I can you a couple of days. I can give Molly up to four. That's all Sherlock, sorry it's how the system works."

He nodded grimly and said "I'd like to be there with Molly. I don't want her to be...to be alone. She's had enough of that"

"That can be arranged. It doesn't need to be at the station, I just need her verbal and written version of events. Same with you."

John sighed, "I best be off, Mary is probably having kittens."

"Tell her I say 'hello'" said Sherlock without thinking, then, to Lestrade "I'm going to check on her. Greg...thank you. For everything" he turned and walked off without another word, headed to Molly's room.

Lestrade and John exchanged bemused looks, before John spoke, "Need a lift?"

"Yeah sure, thank you." John followed Lestrade out the small cafe they'd neared the entrance when Lestrade held out his hands, "Oh! Right, yes, sorry." He dug into his jeans pocket and placed Lestrade's car keys into his waiting hand.

Sherlock rapped lightly on Molly's room door, feeling a distinct sense of nervousness.

"Come in!" She called with a croak.

He entered, and crossed the room to her, sitting on the edge of her bed "How are you feeling?" he asked quietly, his palm on her cheek.

Molly placed a hand on her ribs, "Achey, but not too bad...I was talking to Janet, the nurse you brought in, she says they are keeping me in for eight hours." Shifting so Sherlock could get on the bed with her, "Of nothing changes, then I'll be discharged later on today."

"Alright. Then you can come home, and I'll take care of you" he sat up on the bed beside her, his arm around her, toying with her hair.

"I'd like that." She nestled her head into his shoulder and started to play with his fingers on the hand that was around her, memorizing the contours and veins on the back of his hand, "Did you speak to John and Greg?"

He hesitated "Y-yes...I did"

Molly looked up at him and furrowed her eyebrows, "What's wrong? What have they said?"

"Nothing" he said quickly. He didn't want to share what Greg had told him, mainly because it was such a personal thing, but also because he didn't want to reveal to her how doubtful he had been.

Molly pulled back, "What aren't you tell me? Is it about Mark, can't they hold him?" She shook her head, "I knew this would happen-"

"No no stop!" he said quickly "Of course they can, he's in a holding cell for a few weeks, and then they charge him, I promise he's put away for good"

Molly visibly relaxed, but didn't let it go, she pointed a finger at the man beside her "There's something you're not telling me Sherlock. What did Greg and John say? Is it Mary, has something happened with the baby?"

"No no, Mary's fine, she's fine and the baby's fine. We just talked a bit...they were...very curious about our relationship. Oh also, John noticed the cat hair" he smirked.

"Oh, okay. They're bound to be aren't they?" Molly sat back again, imagining John's reaction to the cat hair, "I bet he was surprised."

"He said..." Sherlock hesitated "He said we'd do just fine together" he looked down at her, smiling a little nervously.

"We will..." She trailed off noticing his nervousness, "Sherlock do you still have doubts? Is it because of my…..what's going on with me?"

"No!" he said at once "No that's not...it's not...of COURSE not!" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, then looked up at her. "Listen...listen I...my fathers. I only told you...some of the things about my father but...he...he used to get angry. He used to...push me around, and my mother too. And he used to tell me...he used to say that I broke everything I touched. And I believed him for a very long time, part of me still does, and I don't want to break you Molly, I couldn't bear it"

She cupped the side of his face, "You won't break me." She whispered, "You could never break me. You'll help mend me. You already have, so much." Molly pressed a kiss to his lips, "Just being here Sherlock, you're helping. Your father is a horrible man, how could anyone not love you? If I ever see him I'll give him a peace of my mind." Molly had a determined look upon her face.

He kissed her gently, visibly relaxing. "You're wonderful, Molly Hooper"

"I am aren't I?" She quipped, she groaned, "God, broken ribs are a pain in the bum."

He kissed her forehead "Sorry" he murmured "And of course you're wonderful. Come on, you've got about 7 hours til they release you. Do you want to try to get some sleep?"

"I don't want to sleep. I want to enjoy a moment's peace with you. Recently that doesn't seem to happen." She entwined her fingers with his and rested them on his lap.

He smiled, running his thumb across the surface of her hand, and murmuring "You realize it's only been three days since the coffee shop? It seems like forever ago..."

"Is that all?" She said with a smile she couldn't believe it, it seemed so much longer, "A lot has happened and changed in three days."

"Some for better, some for worse" he murmured. "I prefer to focus on the better"

Molly hummed and sunk further into the bed as much as her ribs would let her, "This is the most important thing," she said holding up their hands for a moment, "I wouldn't change this for the world, I love you." she mumbled her head lolling to the side so her forehead was pressed against his neck, where she pressed a gentle kiss.

He smiled, feeling himself shudder slightly at the sensation of her lips at his neck, and he swallowed hard, trying to refocus his mind "I love you too" he murmured.

Soon Molly was snoring lightly against his neck, finally in a restful sleep.

He sat with her as the hours passed, occasionally looking at her as she sighed or whimpered in her sleep, playing as he often did with a bit of her hair, a smile toying at his lips. He thought about what was to come. There would of course be statements to give, a court case to attend, but beyond that...they were living together, they had said "I love you", everything seemed to be going brilliantly. But there was still the matter of the person he had kept secret from everyone for so long, not even John knew. There was the not so small matter of their physical relationship, and of course, where it was all headed. What was in their future? Marriage? Children? He shook himself mentally, he was getting way ahead of himself and it wouldn't do to start panicking over things such as that. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of her beside him, and dozed off.

She dreamt of Sherlock and herself, surround by everyone in formal wear, throwing confetti over their heads. Turning to see Sherlock smiling widely she looked down at herself and notices she was dressed in white. A wedding. Hers and Sherlock's wedding. One her mind said, one day.

Molly woke slowly to fingers running in her hair, she peered up at Sherlock to see his face peaceful in slumber, smiling to herself she ran a hand down his chest. How on Earth did she end up with this man?

Sherlock spoke in his sleep "don't..." the smile slid from his face "No..." his voice was quiet, like a scared child.

A worried look flashed across Molly's face as Sherlock's grip tightened on her hand. Removing her hand from his chest and placed it on his cheek, "Sherlock, wake up." Molly called softly, stroking his cheek, "Sherlock."

His eyes opened slowly, then all at once he was sitting upright, looking around in alarm. For a moment, one instant, there was a look of stark anguish on his face, and then he saw Molly, and his face relaxed "Sorry..." he said quietly "Sorry...I've been talking, haven't I? I'm sorry Molly it happens to me s-s-sometimes" he took a deep breath "I'm sorry, what did I say?" he hoped it wasn't anything too bad.

"Hey, whoa." She said reaching out to him, "Don't apologize, it's not your fault," She rubbed up and down his back, "You didn't say a lot, you were telling someone not to do something." Molly said softly

"Oh...oh alright" he said, smiling "That's not so bad" he touched her cheek "Don't look so worried, I'm alright. Happens far too often."

"Way to ease my worry Sherlock," she sat up a bit, "Do you...want to talk about it?"

He looked broodingly at the ceiling, then back down at her "I don't know" he replied, honestly "I've never really properly talked to anyone about it before"

"You don't have to talk about it now." Molly said, "I'll always be there for when you decide to though."

A knock came from the door, Molly turned to look and saw it was Doctor Thompson, she motioned for him to come in.

After entering he gave Sherlock a disapproving look for being on the bed but chose to say nothing, smiling brightly at Molly he asked, "Good afternoon Molly, how are you feeling?"

"Good. Had a wonderful nap actually. I still have the dull ache in my side but...you know," She finished lamely with a shrug.

"As to be expected, we've booked you in for another x-ray in about," he looked at his watch, "Half an hour. Would you mind if I did an examination of the rib now?"

Molly shook her head, "No, of course not."

Sherlock stood from the bed, stepping back, ready to intercede should he feel the need.

Doctor Thompson put on some gloves and moved to Molly, "Could you sit forward for me Molly?" She did as she was asked, and Thompson untied her gown, leaving her just in her black bra. "Do you wish for your friend to stay?"

"He's not my friend he's-"

"Her boyfriend" finished Sherlock.

He was averting his eyes so as to save Molly any awkwardness. He waited for her response, honestly fine with either choice she made, but also wishing he could be here to hold her hand.

"-boyfriend. He's my boyfriend he can stay." She motioned for Sherlock to come round to the other side of the bed, holding out her hand.

Dr. Thompson lowered the head of the bed and started to unwrap the compression bandage around Molly's chest.

Sherlock held her hand, his eyes carefully avoiding her chest, resting on the bandage around her lower chest and abdomen.

"Lie back for me," Dr Thompson's voice was soft, not overly commanding.

Molly did so and squeezed her eyes shut as her muscles where put to the test and her chest grew tight. "I apologize now, this won't be comfortable and it will hurt." Thompson bent down and started to press along her left side, concentrating on her ribcage area.

Molly was pretty sure she was breaking Sherlock's hand, she flinched whenever Thompson pressed a little too hard. On one particular prod she called out as her face contorted in pain.

"Hey!" snapped Sherlock "Be gentle with her" he was glaring at the doctor, his eyes narrowed, not even processing how hard Molly was squeezing his hand.

"I'm sorry," Thompson said, "I have to press hard enough to know what I'm feeling." He stood up and placed Molly's gown over her chest. Peeling his gloves off he chucked them into the bin, "We'll leave your bandage off for now, until after the chest x-ray. I'll get a nurse to sort you something for the pain."

Molly just nodded, trying to take in deep breaths, not even bothering to make a move to sort out her gown.

Sherlock said "Come Molly...sit up a bit, we'll get this back on you" he took her hand and murmured "It'll be alright...come on it'll be okay"

She cracked one eye open and gritted her teeth as she used her other hand to aid her in sitting up, causing the gown to fall down, revealing the swell of her breasts, "Sorry." She said trying to cover herself, "I know this makes you uncomfortable." She wheezed out trying to stay upright, a task proving hard without the compression bandage.

"It doesn't make me uncomfortable" he said quietly, helping her slip the gown on "I don't want to...make you uncomfortable"

A shiver went through her as his hands slipped her gown on, she tried to straighten up, not bothing with tying the back of her gown, "Can you higher the bed back up please?" She asked holding her side.

He nodded, adjusting the bed controls so that it moved upward to support her back "How do you feel?" he asked gently.

"Sore." Molly admitted as she sat back, "That wasn't very pleasant." She closed her eyes against the hot throbbing that was now taking over the left side of her abdomen.

He looked at her, feeling a bit helpless "What can I do?" he asked.

"I don't know Sherlock." Molly said with a sigh, still not opening her eyes. She was about to ask something when someone came through the door. Molly opened her eyes to see a young male nurse.

"I'm here with pain relief," he said with a grin, his broad cockney accent filling the room. He walked over to Molly's IV line.

"Thank-you." She said giving him a small smile.

"Not a problem darlin' it's my job." He winked at her, turned and left.

Sherlock shot him a glare as he left, hovering protectively at Molly's side, then looked down at her "At least that should help a bit..."

Molly peered at him "What was that look for?"

"Nothing" he said quickly, trying and failing to smooth his face into its usual inscrutable mask.

Molly rolled her eyes, "He winked Sherlock. It was harmless." Moving slightly, so he could get on the bed, it proved a lot harder than she anticipated.

He slid onto the bed beside her, putting an arm around her "Still..." he mumbled, his cheeks red.

She raised an eyebrow at his answer and settled herself as best she could into his side, "You're so comfy, you know." Molly felt herself feeling the high of the pain medication, "I always wondered if you were a great cuddle. Squishy and cute, like a koala bear or..." She trailed off, a frown appeared on her face as she thought back what she said in her head, realizing she wasn't making much sense.

Sherlock was barely containing snorts of laughter at this, his jealousy gone, simply enjoying Molly being ridiculous (and a little high on pain medication). He looked at her "go on...I'm a koala bear, am I?"

"You are!" She exclaimed, "Cuddly, beary," she paused and looked up at him, "With some /really/ great hair." Reaching up a hand she patted his head and ran her finger through his silky curls before bopping him on his nose, "My Detective with amazing hair." A goofy smile came to her lips.

He laughed softly, enjoying the feel of her fingers in his hair. He smiled gently at her, tapping a finger to her nose in return.

Looking at his finger as it came to her nose, she smiled, "I love you Sherlock. Lots and lots and lots..." Making a rolling hand gesture, "You see what I mean."

"I do. And I love you just the same way"


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Sherlock hesitated, wondering if it would be manipulative to take advantage of how honest she would be while drugged up.

"At first I thought you hated me. Then again it could have been the sexual tension between us." She contemplated with a bob of her head.

He nearly choked at that, and then started to laugh "Oh Molly...I never hated you" he smirked "It was definitely sexual tension you were feeling"

Molly nodded exaggeratedly, "You could have jumped me any day, I would have let you as well" Molly began to play with his hand again. She'd forgotten all about the pain in her side, "I love you." She smiled broadly at him.

He allowed her to mess about with his fingers as he laughed and said "I love you too." he paused, and then said "Molly? Why do you care for me? I pushed you away for so long, and was quite cruel to you. Why did you continue to like me?"

Molly didn't have to think about her answer, "You don't change for anyone, you are who you are; Sherlock Holmes." She continued to run her fingers lightly over te veins on his hand, "I fell in love with your mind, your passion for the job you choose to do. You care so much, you may not show it but you do. Yes, you continued to say hurtful things and stuff but that didn't matter, none of that mattered as long as you were being you."

He took a long, deep breath. He knew she could not have lied if she had wanted to, and the answer soothed his doubts like a balm. He smiled, and was shocked to find a tear trickling down his cheek. He hastily wiped it away.

Molly, still looking down, missed seeing his tear, "I fell in love with your hands, they're beautiful, smooth. It always fascinated me how you could be delicate with the equipment in the lab, to then wiping some poor dead bugger's back with a riding crop." Her face took a look of confusion, "Your eyes, how they change color...even change color when you're in different moods..." She faded, a far off, quirky smile on her face.

He was listening, gazing at her, half supported on his elbow, a smile on his face as he watched her talking, and with every word he felt a bit less cold, a bit more sane.

She turned to look at him, "I guess I fell in love with every part of you over time. Bit by bit."

Sherlock smiled at her, laughing softly "You, Miss Hooper, have a poetic side to you."

"I try." She said with a small shrug, "Don't doubt yourself when it comes to love, or my love for you...please?" Molly lifted her hand and rested it on his cheek.

He looked down at her, blown away by her ability to read him even when flying high on morphine. "I won't" he couldn't help but smile. "Promise."

"Good." She bopped his nose again and leaned in to kiss the end of it, "Now, where was I?"

"You were talking about why you love me. But...I think it's my turn" he said quietly "Although...perhaps I'll wait until you're in a mental state in which you'll remember what I say"

Molly gave Sherlock a smile, "I don't need to hear you say it Sherlock. I just _know_ these things, you see," she pointed to her head "in my brain." Gesturing wildly with the hand that wasn't holding Sherlock's she said, "I may not be able to tell if someone is shagging the person next to them by their wrist and how their hair is, but I know you love me."

"I do." he murmured, kissing her cheek "I love you Molly, I love you and I'll never tell you enough times. I love you"

She giggled, "I still love hearing you say it."

There was a knock at the door and a rather round middle aged man came into the room, and gave the couple a smile, "Sorry to disturb you folks, but I'm here to take Miss Hooper up to x-ray." He said cheerfully.

"I'll be accompanying you" said Sherlock firmly, standing and helping Molly do the same.

The older man nodded, "No problem, there's plenty of room in the lift." He reached to the left of the door and brought it a wheelchair and stopped it just to the side of Molly, "I'm afraid when we get up there you'll have to wait outside of the room."

Molly gave the wheelchair a glare but said 'thank-you' anyway.

Once the patient was settled the porter started to push Molly, "Off we go then."

Sherlock nodded shortly, striding alongside the wheelchair, looking cold and aloof as he so often did.

Molly tilted her head back to look at the porter, "What's your name?"

The older man glanced down with a smile, "Mackenzie. But everyone calls me Big Mac."

"Big Mac, lovely name. I'm Molly, that's Sherlock." She pointed to herself, then to Sherlock's leg which was moving beside her.

"Nice to meet you Molly," Big Mac gave Sherlock a nod, "and Sherlock."

Sherlock nodded curtly, looking rather curiously at Molly. What was she up to? 'Ah Sherlock...' he reprimanded himself 'She's being friendly. Those are manners, do keep up'

The ride up in the lift was silent Molly kept playing with her IV entry. Eventually the 'ding!' Happened and Big Mac pushed off and walked for about fifty meters, "If you'll just wait here Sherlock," He indicated to the row of seats, "Molly should be out in a couple minutes." He finished with a smile.

Molly looked up at Sherlock, "See you in a few minutes." She said and squeezed his hand.

He leaned down and kissed her lightly "Alright...alright I'll be right here"

As she vanished into the room, he sank into a chair, tapping his fingers on his leg, feeling a knot of anxiety form in his chest the longer she was away from him.

Ten minutes later Big Mac wheeled out Molly, who was slightly red faced due to the moving about while in the x-ray room.

"There we are, right now back down we go." Big Mac said.

"How'd it go? Are you alright?" demanded Sherlock, rushing forward to stand beside her and hold her hand.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." She reassured him, "It was just a bit of a challenge laying on my side and getting into the correct positions for the x-ray." Molly squeezed his hand as Big Mac wheeled her back to the lift, and back to her room.

"I'm sorry" he said quietly as they began her descent back down to her room. He gently squeezed her hand.

They arrived at her room and Big Mac stopped the wheelchair near her bed, "Do you need a hand getting up on the bed?" He turned to Sherlock, "Or will the gentleman be assisting?"

"I will be" said Sherlock, rather coldly. He turned his back on the man and took Molly's hand, helping her stand.

Molly leant against Sherlock as she thanked Big Mac and watched him go she turned her head to Sherlock. "What is wrong with you?" She asked sternly her eyebrow raised in challenge, "What did he do wrong?"

"Nothing" said Sherlock quickly, easing her into her hospital bed, a furrow between his eyebrows "Nothing at all"

"Really?" She said challenging him, "He was really helpful in that x-ray room Sherlock. He was just being nice. Or am I wrong and did your super deductive powers pick up that he's a serial killer?" Molly shifted into a comfortable position a scowl on her face.

"No no, it's nothing, he's...he's..." Sherlock searched for words, his eyebrows furrowed. He wouldn't look at her.

"Spit it out Sherlock..." Molly coaxed, the dull ache was getting more intense, she sat back and closed her eyes willing it away.

"He's NICE!" he spat the last word like an expletive. "He's kind and genuine and a million other things about him are good and I'm NOT good in those ways, I'm not kind like that Molly, I'm just not, and the more...the more..." He choked on his words for a minute, then turned his back on her, standing stiffly, looking out the window "The more time you spend with people like John and Lestrade and...and him...the more you'll see that I'm not kind enough Molly, not good enough, you deserve better"

And with that he walked out of the room, tears that he would not shed stinging his eyes.


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"Wha..?" Molly watched in utter shock as he fled the room. He seriously thought that? Gritting her teeth she got out of bed, hunched over and hobbled to the door, "Sherlock!" She yelled it came out as a croaky strain as she saw his coat flourish round the corner. Pressing her hand into her side she grasped the wall and continued to follow him. She'll be damned if he thinks he's walking away now, because someone person was "nice" to her.

A nurse attempted to stop her "Miss Hooper, what are you doing? You'll damage those ribs, you need to get back to bed!"

Sherlock headed for the door, now unable to stem the flow of tears streaking down his cheeks. He gritted his teeth, feeling bitter. For a moment he thought he could be good enough, but just seeing the contrast of that man's kindness to his own stark cold manner made the doubts surge to the surface, and he couldn't contain them. He leaned against the wall near the hospital doors, trying to steady himself. He knew if he left, it was over. All that happiness that he might've had. But he was doing this for her, to protect her, protect her from himself.

"Leave me alone!" Molly pushed past the nurse. She pushed the pain to the back of her mind. Finally after what seemed like a lifetime she reached the door to the exit, seeing him there against the wall.

"You don't..." She panted and leant against the wall for support, the cold hitting her full force, she was in only a gown after all. "You don't get to do that, say those things and then run away." An angry look took to her face as it flushed and she pointed a finger at him, "Who the HELL do you think you are?!" She tried to shout, not caring if people watched, "I'll decide what I deserve Sherlock. Me! Not you! Just because you aren't nice and playing in a field full of daisies all the time suddenly means I shouldn't have you, shouldn't BE with you?" Molly took a shaky breath tears coming full force now, "These past few days, have been the worst and best in my life. Are you going to tell me you weren't _nice_ to me? That you didn't help me? I wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for you. And this isn't Mousy Molly being pathetic, it's the cold hard truth Sherlock. I love you, you being nice wasn't what I fell in love with, although it was a nice surprise when we are alone." She looked up at the murky sky it somehow conveyed what she felt, the fight all of a sudden leaving her as she met his gaze, "I deserve you," she whispered, "I've waited and loved you for long enough."

He had listened to all of this with his back to her. He turned very slowly to her, his face smooth and inscrutable. He moved forward slowly, taking her hand in one of his, looking at her, and murmuring "Molly..." he touched her cheek, and then it hit him like a truck where they were "Wait a moment...oh Molly you've probably hurt yourself worse." he looked around and, seeing no wheelchair, he very gently picked her up, pulling his coat around her to shield her from prying eyes. As he walked purposefully back toward her room, carrying her like a child, he said quietly "Oh Molly...oh my Molly I love you, I do I love you so much..."

"You don't get to do this. You don't GET to run away." She mumbled forcefully as he walked them back to her room, "I know this is all knew to you I know your scared of giving yourself, but you have to give me something I can't do it all by myself Sherlock," she broke off as a silent sob shook her, causing her ribs to protest at the jerky movement, she gritted her teeth against the pain.

He nodded, focusing on walking evenly so that he didn't jolt her ribs.

He brushed past the worried knot of nurses, and gently placed her on the edge of her bed, looking at her, listening, his face smooth, unreadable.

Molly bowed her head one hand pressing against her ribs the other gripping to the bed that tight it was causing her knuckles to turn white. She'd had enough, not only has her cat been murdered, she'd lost her flat, been assaulted, harassed, broken to of her ribs and got a bruised windpipe and all that resulted in PTSD and now Sherlock was already doubting what little relationship they had. She was exhausted. All she wanted was a break.

A squeaky voice filtered around the room, "Miss Hooper what were you doing you could-"

Something in Molly snapped.

"Go away!" She screamed at the nurses who came into the room, "Leave! NOW!"

"Molly!" said Sherlock, shocked. And then he understood.

It hit him all at once. She was exhausted, understandably, and obviously tired of his ridiculous stammering and doubtfulness. He straightened his coat, and turned to the nurses "I will help her. Please go. We will call you if we need you"

The nurses back out of the room looking somewhat shocked at Molly's outburst. Closing the door behind them.

Molly stood up silently and hobbled as best she could towards her top that was folded on a side unit.

He turned to her, his eyebrows furrowed "Molly...where do you think you're going?"

"I'm discharging myself." She mumbled and pulled the tie string on her gown letting it fall off her and onto the floor. Her whole upper half ached. That was the only way to describe it. Ache.

He kept his eyes fixed on her face "Molly, I don't know if you're ready for that" he moved forward hesitantly.

She ignored him and tried to get her blouse on, she had made three attempts to get it on before she slung it back onto the side with a bang and a frustrated cry, "God!" Molly placed her head in her hands, she felt like a fool, she couldn't even get her stupid blouse on.

He moved forward hesitantly, and then all at once, wrapping his arms around her partially bare frame, hugging her gently, and then saying "Let me help you. Come on, I'll take care of you at _our_ flat."

Molly encircled her arms around his waist under his coat as best she could, gripping to the back of his suit jacket, she pulled back and looked him in the eye, "I'm not going with you unless you're absolutely sure. You can't say that you're going to take care of me then tomorrow we get a visit from Greg or John and... you run off again." She said quietly, "Sherlock I don't think I have it in me right now to keep on having this battle with you." Molly admitted the look of pure exhaustion on her face.

He did not hesitate. He leaned down and very gently kissed her "No more running off" he promised. "I'm here to stay. I swear Molly, I won't...I won't be going anywhere"

She rested her forehead against his, "I love you Sherlock." Molly kissed him again, "I need help getting this on." She held up her blouse, "I'm not staying here any longer. I want to go...home."

"Home it is" he said, helping gently tug the blouse on, and buttoning it for her.

He knew he had to be strong for Molly. He knew he couldn't keep doing this. He had pushed her away for three years, and now had a taste of what it was like to love and be loved in return. He wasn't about to mess that up now.

"There's a cupboard behind you, second shelf on the right, you'll see a bunch of white plastic packets, round shaped. They are compression bandages. Stuff as many as you can in your pockets." She gave him a smile when he'd finished buttoning her up.

He turned and did as she said, taking at least a dozen rolls before nodding "Right" he grabbed her bag, took her hand, and kissed her cheek "Let's be off"

"I have to fill in a form and be told it's against my better judgment to leave and that I'd be better off here." She took his hand and leaned against Sherlock for support, "Then we can go."

He nodded, and put on his best cold featured face, his eyes icy. As they opened the door, he glared a challenge at the nurses who were standing outside. They moved aside, and the pair headed for the desk.

Molly sent Sherlock a grateful look. After some heat butting and a long winded explanation from her Doctor, Molly was finally free to go.

"I hope I don't see you two here again," a light voice came from behind them, "I wish you both the very best."

Molly turned to see Big Mac stood near the lift, wheeling a new patient. She looked at Sherlock then back to the porter, "Thank you, Big Mac."

Sherlock looked at him, hesitated, then walked across, and extended a hand to shake "Thank you for being so good to my Molly."

Big Mac took it firmly, with a smile, "All in a day's work as a porter, son. You take care of her, she's certainly one in a million." Big Mac gave Sherlock a nod when the lift dinged, and off he went.

Molly had to wipe a tear from her eye as Sherlock came back towards her.

Sherlock returned, brushing away her tear with his thumb, and kissing her softly "Let's go home"

"Wait," she grabbed his arm, "Where-" she gestured to where Big Mac was previously stood, "Where did that come from?"

"It came from you"


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Once settled in the back of a cab, Molly lay her head on Sherlock's shoulder, closing her eyes she listened to the sound of the city outside. There was a Christmas song playing on the radio. Recognizing it she started to hum along.

Christmas was only a few weeks away. Sherlock reflected that he should probably get her a gift. He wondered what he should get. He held her hand, squeezing it gently.

She returned the squeeze, and started to sing softly, under her breath, "I've got a feeling this year's for me and you, so happy Christmas I love you baby. I can see a better time where all our dreams come true." Molly had to stop herself from laughing, she looked up at Sherlock, her eyes roamed over the side of his face, his hair, that _fantastic_ hair. A thought hit her, what could she get Sherlock for Christmas? He wouldn't want the traditional gifts, socks maybe? Or a new shirt, she'd have to give it a think when they got back to his- their flat.

"Were you just singing?" he asked curiously as they pulled up at 221B. He got out and hurried around the car to help her after paying the cabbie.

"I-well...yes," she said blushing, realizing Sherlock had heard her. Shuffling slowly to get out the cab.

"Do you sing often?" he asked, carefully taking her hand as they walked up the steps.

"No." She said holding on to him as they ventured up to the flat, "I mean, not any more. My brother and I, we used to sing for my Dad around Christmas time."

He smiled at her as they entered the flat "Christmas songs, I expect?"

"Yeah, sometimes we sang normal songs." Molly eased herself down in Sherlock's chair, a smile appearing on her face as she recalled the memories, "Dad always said we'd make a good duo we used to do little dances too, I haven't sang with him in...years." Remembering where he is she looked down a lump forming in her throat. He shouldn't be in a war zone, he should be here, with family, with her.

He sat on the arm of the chair, and said quietly "Molly...are you alright?"

"I've never told you about my brother have I?" Molly asked quietly, looking at her nails.

"Not much, no" he replied quietly, gently rubbing her back, trying to comfort her.

"He's- Noah, he's in the Army." Molly said as she sniffled, "Frontline, um, infantry, followed in my Uncle's footsteps. He's in Afghanistan at the moment. I haven't heard from him since last week." Molly turned her gaze to the ash in the fire.

He moved to crouch in front of the chair, taking both of her hands in his own, and saying quietly "I'm sure he'll be alright. That's very brave of him, Molly"

She gave him a grin, "I know. I'm so proud of him Sherlock." Molly shook her head, "I don't want him to be called home, he can, with everything that's happened but he'll be home in a couple of months anyway."

Sherlock's mind was going a mile a minute, but he nodded slowly "Alright" He kissed her gently "How are your ribs feeling?" he asked. The sun was sinking on their fourth day together.

"He'd have my head if he knew I was keeping this from him, but he has bigger things to worry about over there." She let him kiss her and smiled against his lips, "Bit better," Molly nodded, "still aching. Do you think John would prescribe me some painkillers?"

"I'm sure I could convince him" said Sherlock, touching her cheek "Maybe you should get to bed. It's been a long long day"

Molly hesitated, her hair wasn't the best and she was in need of a good wash or a shower, but she couldn't do it all on her own. She couldn't even get her own blouse off for Christ sake, "Sherlock?" Quickly changing her mind, "Never mind." she dismissed as she went to get up

"What?" he asked, cocking his head "What is it, Molly?"

"I need...well, I _want_ a shower." Molly waved him off as she shuffled towards the door, "It's okay, I can manage. I think." Mumbling the last part.

"But..." he hesitated "The floor is quite slippery...I can't risk you falling..." he hesitated, looking nervous.

"I'll be fine, I'll manage." She smiled at him, she knew he would be nervous, she hadn't even asked him outright and he was already fidgeting, "Sherlock it doesn't matter."

"It does though" he took a deep breath "If you require my assistance...you will have it. Period" he looked at her firmly "I won't...I won't violate any trust, I promise Molly, but you couldn't even get your blouse on. If you fell...hurt yourself further...it'd be my fault. I swore I wouldn't let you be hurt again, and I'll keep that promise."

"It's not about trust Sherlock, I trust you whole heartedly, with my life." Molly turned slightly leaning against the door frame, "It's-" she let out a sigh, "You couldn't even look at me when I took my gown off at the hospital. Hell, you nearly had a heart attack at the thought of sharing the same bed with me. Sherlock, how are you going to handle me being...naked." Molly shook her head, this was nothing sexual, she needed a shower plain and simple.

"I am afraid of...violating your modesty" he said "That's why I did not look. Molly, it isn't that I don't find you...desirable" He touched her cheek "You are beautiful, and...I simply did not want to break any trust. I did not want to be just another man staring at you like a buffoon. I was...afraid." he looked at her, pure honesty shining in his eyes "Afraid you would never trust me again. But if you trust me this much…I will help you"

"For a genius, you can be an idiot at times, you know that?" Smiling she took the hand that was resting on her cheek, "You wouldn't break any trust Sherlock, I love you. You're the only man I wan't staring at me like a buffoon." Molly giggled slightly.

He laughed "right" he said, squaring his shoulders "Right then. Let's...right" he still looked a bit nervous. He never had seen a woman naked after all, but he reminded himself that this wasn't in any sense sexual. He was helping the woman he loved, nothing more...for now at least. He said "go and get ready. I can't exactly help you in this" he indicated his tailored suit.

Molly smiled before turning and making her way up to her room. It took her a few seconds to catch her breath before going into the bathroom and grabbing a towel then hobbling into her room to undress.

Molly started to unbutton her blouse, gritting her teeth she used the arm of her good side to pull one sleeve down, leaving her blouse hanging she unbuttoned her jeans, "Sherlock?" she called, knowing she couldn't get any further on her own.

He entered the room. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a loose t shirt. He stepped forward, gently helping her remove her blouse. "Sit down" he said quietly, and when she complied, he helped her tug her jeans off, knowing she couldn't bend to do it herself.

"I feel like such an invalid. Not being able to do this myself." She eased herself back up, pulling on Sherlock's arm. Molly became suddenly very conscious of the fact she was in her underwear, she move an arm to cover the bruises that marred her front.

His eyes swept over her body, not in a ogling way, more in concern. His fingers brushed lightly over the bruise, careful not to hurt her "It's alright"

Knowing she couldn't reach around her body, he gently moved to unhook her bra "Are you alright? Is this okay?" he asked, deciding to ask before removing it.

"Yeah, yeah s'fine," Molly whispered, she looked down at her side where the spatter of blue, purple and red laid, "It's bad isn't it?"

"It's...you'll be alright" he said quietly, unhooking her bra, and gently tugging it off her, laying it neatly on the pile of the rest of her clothes.

Goosebumps formed on her skin as the cool air hit her, she immediately went to cover herself up, feeling slightly exposed, "Sorry..." Looking away, "Could you pass me the towel?"

He nodded, carefully preserving her modesty, handing her the towel.

She wrapped it around her and gave him a small smile, "Shall we?"

He nodded, taking her hand as they entered the bathroom together. "Go ahead and set the water to the temperature you like" he said quietly, digging in the cabinet under the sink for her shampoo and body wash, and pulling them out along with a clean washcloth.

Molly flipped the switch and played about with nozzle continuing to test it with her hand until it was the right temperature. She turned to see Sherlock with his head in a cabinet, quietly she dropped the towel and pulled her underwear down, letting it fall down her legs before stepping under the spray.

He turned and passed her the washcloth and toiletries. He hesitated, then said "Just tell me how I can help"

"My hair," she said quietly, her face flushed with embarrassment, she felt so stupid, the first time Sherlock was supposed to see her naked was when they made love for the first time. Not battered and bruised. Molly shook her head realizing she hadn't said anything for a solid thirty seconds, "My-my hair, I need you to...I think I can manage the rest."

He poured some of the shampoo into his hand, and gently began massaging it into her scalp. He seemed to understand what she was thinking, and said quietly "It doesn't matter, you know. I still love you, I still find you beautiful. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but please don't be ashamed."

She relaxed into his touch, "I know." She admitted, "It just, it doesn't make it any better." Reaching back she place a wet hand on his jean clad thigh, "I love you too."

He smiled, and said "Alright...I'll help you rinse, just lean into the spray"

Molly nodded and turned around so she was facing Sherlock grabbing his shoulder wincing as she stretched her body slightly.

He helped her rinse it out, moving his hand gently through her hair. He paused, saying quietly "Relax Molly, don't hurt yourself"

When her hair was clean, he nodded "Right...that's done"

Without thinking Molly moved up on her tip toes, grasping his t-shirt and pressed her lips to his. Molly broke the kiss and looked down blushing, "Sorry. Thank you, for doing my hair."

He tipped her head up, and kissed her again in response. He smiled, breaking apart and saying "You're welcome"

"I think I can take care of the rest," a shiver going through her. She stepped back a little and looked at his top and laughed softly, "You're a bit wet."

He looked at his soaking wet shirt and jeans, nodding with a slight laugh and leaning against the sink."Do you want me to stay?"

"Please." She said and stepped back under the spray taking the wash cloth of the little ledge she lathered it up. Using her good side's arm she was able to wash most of herself, grimacing when she washed over her injured area. Determined to do it on her own she bent down to start her legs when she felt the shot of hot pain and whimpered. Molly hoped Sherlock wouldn't hear over the noise of the falling water.

He heard anyway. He moved forward very quickly "Molly, sit up, you'll hurt yourself" he said softly, gently taking the washcloth from her "I'll do it...if that's alright"

Molly sat on the edge of the bath and nodded silently as started taking breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth, the pain knocking the wind out of her.

He moved the washcloth carefully across her skin, taking care where there were bruises. He looked up at her when he had finished, saying quietly "You can rinse now Molly"

Again she nodded but didn't say anything, getting up slowly she let the water cascade over her, simply standing there for a few minutes. The pain ebbed away but still flared every now and then letting Molly know it was still there, a reminder of what happened, who had done it. She put her face up to the water as the tears threatened to come once again she wasn't going to cry again tonight. It hurt too much.

He waited a moment, his back to her, before turning "Molly...Molly it's alright...come on" he took her hand, giving it a very gentle tug to indicate that she should come out of the spray "It's alright"

Turning the knob to stop the water, she took a breath before turning and plastering a smile on her face, "Thank you." She said her voice thick.

He helped her wrap the towel around herself, and got another smaller one to put her hair up in "Molly..." he murmured her name quietly, pulling her in for a very gentle hug.

Reciprocating, she leant her forehead against his collar bone and let her hands go round his waist to rest just above his backside. Molly didn't know what to feel, part of her felt angry, another sad, tired, worn down, a small part of her even felt sorry for Mark. A whole other part of her felt absolutely ecstatic she was finally with the man she loved and had loved for years but she couldn't enjoy it like she was supposed to.

They stood there, holding each other in the steamy bathroom, for at least 5 minutes. When he finally released her, he blinked back tears.

He couldn't believe how much he had cried in the past 72 hours, but somehow he didn't mind in front of Molly. He trusted her more deeply then he'd ever trusted anyone.

"Come on. I'll help you get dressed" he said quietly.

Molly loved the feeling of Sherlock's arms around her, he was her safe haven in all of this, his kisses like the drug she couldn't, wouldn't give up. She stepped back and nodded turning around to go to her bedroom.

He followed behind her, watching her, admiring her. He couldn't get enough of her, and couldn't believe that just a few hours ago, he'd almost given up.

Molly walked into her bedroom resting against the chest of drawers, "I have some pajama bottoms in the wardrobe," she said already starting to dry off her body as best she could, "My, uh, my tops are all vest tops, they might be a bit tight, with the compression bandage as well."

"You can wear something of mine. Just a moment" he left the room, returning with a roll of bandages and a loose t shirt. "Will this do?"

She gave him a small smile, "Perfect, thank you." Moving towards the bed she came to a stop, standing awkwardly, "Bottoms first?" she suggested.

He nodded, standing waiting for her to tell him how to help.

"I'm already dry," Molly informed him, her body having dried naturally in the air, "I just need help...into them."

He nodded, unsure what to do "Alright...ah...sit down" he proceeded to rather awkwardly help her into her pajamas pant, careful not to hurt her or violate her modesty.

Molly was glad that it was over and that was the easy part, "Now for the hard bit. Compression bandage, you won't like it, you're going to have to hurt me. It won't be pretty." She said quietly looking at him pure trust in her eyes.

He hesitated, then nodded "I'm sorry" he sat quietly as he pulled the packaging off the bandage. He hesitated "Hold the end" he handed it to her, and began to roll it tightly around the bruised part of her body.

Molly even her breathing and raised her arm of the injured side so Sherlock could see the full thing. Gritted her teeth as Sherlock tightly wrapped the bandage around her ribs, she hissed, "Fuck!" Tears coming to her eyes and for once it was just her ribs that caused the tears.

He flinched at her pain, saying again and again "Molly I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry..." until at last her wound the bandage to the bottom of the injury, taping it down and saying quietly "It's over Molly, I'm so sorry..."

She sagged with relief, feeling the support of the bandage already, "Stop saying you're sorry, it's not your fault. It needed to be done Sherlock." Molly said, once she got her breath back.

He nodded, and said "Alright...arms up, let me help you get these on" he held up her bra and the t shirt.

Molly shifted and shook her head, "Wearing the bra will be uncomfortable. I mean I'm not going anywhere am I?" She asked rhetorically.

"Alright" he said reasonably, tossing it back into the drawer and saying "Alright...put your arms up a bit, I know it'll hurt but we can only get this shirt on by pulling it over your head."

She raised her arms as best she could as he gently pulled his t-shirt over her head. After popping her head through the neck hole she looked down at it, grey in color. It didn't seem too old, in fact it was lovely and soft against her and it buried her small frame. She smothered a hand down the front and peered up at him, "It's very soft and comfy. Thank you."

"Of course" he said quietly, tipping her chin up and kissing her. He eyed her analytically "You're tired, aren't you?"

As if her body had ganged up on her with Sherlock she had to stifle a yawn, blushing she replied, "A bit." Placing a hand on his stomach pulling at his own wet t-shirt slightly she let it go and it make a small slap sound. Molly had to suppress a giggle. "I'm also hungry." She added as an afterthought.

"Alright, let me change. Would you like to order some food, or have me cook?" he asked, a smile quirking his lips.

Molly hummed, as a thoughtful look came across her features, "That depends, what time is it?"

He checked his watch "About 10:30"

"Order in. It's too late to have you running around the kitchen." She smiled as she pushed herself up.

"Alright" he said, leaving the room to go change into dry clothes. As he did so, he let out a slight hum of satisfaction. Perhaps tonight would be a nice, peaceful evening in. He didn't feel nearly as nervous anymore, though it had distressed him slightly to see how hurt she was. His hands shook slightly as he pulled on a dry t-shirt, thinking of wrapping the bandages, and of the whimpering sounds she had made.

Molly followed him, lagging behind with a hand holding onto the banister and a hand protectively on her ribs she made her way down stairs. A couple of minutes later she was walking into the kitchen. Going to the fridge she gave the milk a sniff and made a face, "Milks off!" She called through into his bedroom.

Hobbling through to the living room she turned the television on, catching her toweled head reflection in the mirror. Moving to get a better look she took in the line bruise on her neck, it wasn't as bad as the bruises that were scattered across her upper half but it was still very noticeable.

Sherlock followed her into the kitchen a few minutes later, dressed in a pair of black boxers, a t-shirt, and his red dressing gown. "Alright, I'll pick up more tomorrow" he said, turning to pick up the phone.

She turned when she heard his voice, her hand still touching her neck. Molly slowly eased herself into Sherlock's chair, admiring his attire from where she was, a small smile playing on her lips.

After he'd finished ordering in some fish and chips, he turned back to Molly, noting the smile on her face. He turned slightly pink. "What?"

"Just taking advantage of your chosen outfit." a playful smirk coming to her face as she leant back into his chair feeling completely as ease, "Where have you been hiding those legs Sherlock?"

He blushed a deeper shade of red. Waved his hand in the air as though trying to swat her question away, saying "I don'...um...I mean to say..." he grinned at her sheepishly.

She cocked her head to one side and smiled at his blushing grin, "You mean to say that, all these years they have been underneath those suit trousers?"

"Yes..." He said, turning noticeably more red.

Molly saw the way he was shifting, clearly uncomfortable, "Sherlock I was just... I was only playing, I didn't mean to embarrass you," She said in an apologetic tone, sitting up slightly. Maybe they weren't at the playful flirting stage? Molly thought to herself.

He smiled, crossing the room and kissing her. The kiss was a bit harder than usual, a little more passionate.

She let out a surprise squeak, for a second she was in shock at his sudden change but then she found herself moaning into the kiss and giving as good as she was getting. One of her hands held onto his dressing gown while the other meshed into his dark curls.

He loved the taste of her, like tea and almonds and mint and sugar. He deepened the kiss further, pulling her upright, his hand secured at the small of her back, careful not to hurt her. Though inexperienced, he was naturally adept at kissing. This became abundantly clear very quickly

Molly gave his hair a tug as she nipped at his bottom lip before soothing it with a light suck. Slipping both hands down his front she wrapped them around his hips, under his dressing gown. She couldn't get enough of him; his taste, his smell, his touch. Though she would let him take the lead, she didn't want to rush him, she would let it play out. Although with her ribs, there wasn't much they could do.

He broke apart after a moment, breathing heavily. He was shaking slightly, surprised at what had just happened.

Molly was in a slight daze, panting a little, the movement causing a flare up of pain but she tried to push it down. She had a tight grip on his t-shirt at the back, "Where did- that was, um..."

He smiled at her "Where was I hiding that, do you mean to ask?" he teased lightly.

Molly nodded biting her lip a glint coming to her eye, "Damn my ribs." She cursed lightly under her breath, laughing.

"There's always time for all _that _after you're better" he said gently, touching her cheek with the palm of his free hand, the other still secured around her waist.

A pink tinge took to Molly's neck, "I'll bet." She said giving his bum a playful squeeze. Her face took a serious look, "You know that I don't…expect it, when I'm better, or after. I won't push you."

He jumped a bit at her touch, then looked at her, his face suddenly as serious as her "As I told you Molly, it isn't that I don't find you desirable. Previously I have wanted to preserve your modesty, because I did not want to be another fool gawking at you. I would never take advantage of you in that way. And yes, it is a bit...nerve wracking for me. I will admit, I have marks on my body besides those you saw, and I feel very exposed when revealing them, but I trust you enough that...when it is time...I want that first experience to be with you" he had a very open, honest look on his face.

She nodded, listening to him intently, "Sherlock Holmes, you incredible man." Molly moved her hands from his waist, to cup both of his cheeks, "One step at a time, and I'll show you that being loved physically isn't so scary and nerve wracking," she placed a softly kiss to his lips, not heated but the passion was still there. Her love for him shining through.

He kissed her back, a lingering kiss that he savored, enjoying the feeling of this incredible woman in his arms, enjoying the cool feel of her hands on his cheek. He smiled into the kiss, and when they broke apart, he was still smiling.


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

In the aftermath of the kiss, Molly grinned, beamed at him and pressed herself to him, nestling her nose into his neck. For the size he was, lean but clearly muscular from what she had seen a few days ago while he was only clad in a towel, he was very snuggily. She started to giggle at the thought, Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, crime fighter… giver of snuggily cuddles. She was sure he would've turned bright red if she'd expressed this aloud, so she kept quiet.

A soft smile was on his face as he looked down at her. Unpredictably, the doorbell rang. He went to answer it, paying for the fish and chips and reflecting on what had happened these past few days. He couldn't believe how far they'd come in four days.

Molly felt like a teenage girl inside again, she was squealing on the inside as she watched him go to get the door. Smiling to herself she placed a hand over her mouth and touched her lips lightly; it felt as though his lips were still there. To look at them you wouldn't place a four day length for the time they've been together. It felt so much longer. Molly sighed happily a silly smile taking over her face as she waited in the kitchen, she suppose knowing each other for years before helped.

He turned back around, noting her far of look and the hand at her mouth and smiling "Earth to Molly..." he said "Food's here. We haven't eaten in a very long time, so let's dig in" he laid it out on the table.

She shook herself as she heard his voice, "Right, yes sorry. Was miles away." Her stomach grumbled as the smell of the fish and chips filled the air, "That smells lovely."

"Come on" he said, sitting at the table and surveying the meal. "You need to eat, get some nourishment in you" Suddenly there came a soft 'mew' sound, and Lyla stumped into the room, purring as she rubbed against Molly. Sherlock froze, looking with concern at Molly, not sure how she'd react.

Toby. Toby. That's all that ran through her head. She was mortified, she'd forgotten all about him, what kind of a pet lover does that make her? Molly looked up to see a worried look upon Sherlock's face, giving him a watery smile, "It's okay." She whispered with a shake of her head. Looking down at the small kitten at her feet a lump formed in her throat. She pushed it down as she reached a hand down to touch the soft fur on Lyla's head.

Lyla mewed, scrabbling to try to jump onto Molly's lap. Sherlock moved to stand behind Molly, his hands resting comfortingly on her shoulders.

"Up you come then," Molly whispered to the kitten, placing a hand under the feline's bum she helped her up to her lap, making sure she didn't get onto the table. There was the fish after all. Lyla crept up Molly chest nuzzling her neck, "Hello Lyla, have you missed me?" She cooed, "I bet you have. I bet you've missed Sherlock more! I've missed you, I have." Tilting her head back Molly gazed up at Sherlock.

Sherlock smiled, bending over to kiss her "Eat up" he said "You haven't eaten in a day and a half" he scratched briefly behind Lyla's ear, then returned to his seat. Lyla meowed, purring and curling up in Molly's lap, purring softly, her ragged and torn ears twitching.

Molly dug in, finding that once she started eating she was starving, but also tired. Eating her last chip she placed her fork down on the plate, positively stuffed. She leaned back, careful of her ribs and not to disturb Lyla she placed a hand on her stomach, "That was amazing."

He nodded agreement, satisfied despite having eaten only half his food. He noted how tired she looked, said "Come on...bed" he packaged up the food and put it in the fridge "I've got to change the burn bandage on my leg, then I'll be in"

Molly shooed Lyla off her lap, feeling bad for disturbing her sleep. Easing herself up she looked between the door leading to the stairs and Sherlock's room, not really sure which "bed" he meant. She assumed he would be sleeping in his bed for Lyla but maybe he meant he'd be in John's room to say goodnight to her.

He entered the bathroom, considering his options as he cleaned his injury and re-wrapped it. He hesitated, then made his decision. It was time to commit to this. "Molly?" he called, poking his head into her room.

She looked up from where she was sat on her bed, "Yeah?"

"Could I...um...could I sleep with you again? I mean in the same bed" he added quickly

"Yes of course." She smiled at him, "You don't have to ask." Getting up she looked at the big quilt on John's bed, "Would you…do you want to sleep in your bed? I mean in case Lyla needs us?"

"As long as you come with me" he said with a slight smile, playing with the edge of the comforter.

"Anywhere." She stated quietly, looking up at him.

"Alright" he said, gathering up the thick quilt and taking her hand

She went with him down the stairs and into his room, Lyla soon tripping over herself when she saw she had more than one visitor.

He spread out the blanket on the bed and pulled it back a bit, slipping under it and waiting for Molly to do the same.

Molly sat on the edge of his bed, easing herself further onto It. Groaning as her ribs pulled, she laid back. Finally laid flat, she had her eyes scrunched, "That hurt." She said with a strained voice.

He propped himself up on one elbow, his free hand brushing a bit of hair out of her face. He sighed, and said quietly "I'm sorry..."

She grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it as she let her body settle slowly into the soft mattress, "Stop apologizing, I've told you before Sherlock, it's not your fault. It just...hurts a bit."

He nodded, his eyebrows furrowed, and said quietly "Try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, not letting go of his hand, pulling the cover up she tugged him closer, "Night Sherlock."

"Goodnight" he said softly, drifting off to sleep beside the woman he loved.


	28. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Two weeks later, Christmas was in the air. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and much to the surprise of everyone, Sherlock and Molly were hosting a Christmas party at the flat.

Sherlock, meanwhile, had been darting in and out of the flat, working, it seemed, on Molly's gift.

Molly was sat sideways on the sofa with Lyla curled up beside her, she had grown a bit but still managed to fit in the most small of spaces. She looked up from her laptop as the front door to the flat slammed again and pounding came up the steps. Molly glanced at the presents under the tree. She wasn't quite sure what to get Sherlock but she was positive he'd love it...hopefully.

"Sherlock the next time you slam that door I won't be responsible for what I do to you." She warned as he came into the room.

Sherlock laughed as he entered, looking happy and lighthearted. The change that had come over him had been shocking and rapid, as though a new man had arisen from the cold ash of his previous self. His relationship with Molly had changed him, that was for certain, and no one was more surprised than John Watson. Just earlier that day, he had been talking to Sherlock about Mary, who was getting a bit bigger as the pregnancy moved forward, and Sherlock had said "I'm very glad you get to be a parent, John. It'll be very rewarding. Maybe I could...could come over, and see the baby sometimes when he or she is born" John had looked at him like he'd grown an extra head.

Sherlock smiled at Molly, then said slightly more seriously "How do your ribs feel? The last time we got them checked the doctor did say they were coming along well."

"Much better. The pain killers John prescribe are working a treat.," She told him her own smile on her face, "The doctor phoned while you were out actually, informed me that he's looked over the last of my x-rays and I can start normal routines slowly after new years, without the bandage."

Molly took in his appearance, red cheeks and a bright smile on his face. The change she's seen in him was truly amazing. Granted she'd told him he didn't need to change but this was a nice surprise. He was warmer, inviting and...loving. Grinning at him she held out a hand for him to come over.

He crossed the room in an instant, plopping down beside her and kissing her. "I missed you" he said quietly "Preposterous really, I've only been out a few hours, but still...I did"

Molly hummed into the kiss nuzzling her nose with his cold one, "I'm a very missable person," she quipped giving him another peck, "I missed you too. I managed to get the buffet food ready, it's all set out on the table." Informing him, looking quite proud of herself. It was only sandwiches, sausage rolls, finger food really. She glanced at the clock on her laptop screen it was only twenty past four the guests weren't arriving until half past six.

"What shall we do until they arrive?" asked Sherlock. He looked nervous again. The last time he'd hosted a Christmas party had been before the fall...and those weren't exactly pleasant memories for he or Molly. He felt hot shame sweep him at the thought.

"Well I need to- hey," she murmured seeing his face drop, "None of that. Tonight is going to be great." Molly stroke his cheek and leaned in for a kiss when Lyla made herself known, shoving her head in between Sherlock's and hers.

Sherlock laughed, his bad mood disappearing, melting away. He stroked the growing kitten and smiled "Sorry Molly, what were you saying?"

Molly gazed at them both, the cat she loved dearly and the man who saved her, swallowing back a wave of emotion she smiled at Sherlock, "I need to shower and get ready. You could help me wrap my bandage and help me get into my new dress." She told him, stroking Lyla hearing her purr the kitten taking in all the attention she was receiving, "I want to try and shower myself, not that I don't want you there- it's just well, if you aren't showering with me then I feel like I leave you out." She frowned at her words, and cocked her head at him hoping her blush didn't worsen, "Does that make sense?"

"It's fine. Try by yourself" he said, pressing his lips to her forehead "I'm just going to change, and call me when you're ready to rewrap your bandage, alright?"

Smiling she nodded and moved her hip to bump him off the sofa while closing her laptop screen, "Oh, there's some food in the oven, when the timer dings could you put them on a plate and leave them to cool, please?" Easing herself up she pecked him on the lips and walked to go upstairs.

He smiled, watching her go, a small smile quirking his lips. He went and changed, emerging looking immaculate as always just in time to hear the oven ding.

Molly entered the bathroom flicking on the water early, so it filled the room with warmth. Carefully undressing herself, she unwrapped the bandage feeling a slight stabbing pain as her ribs where allowed to stretch.

She smiled as she stepped under the spray letting it wash over her. The bruise on her neck was nearly completely gone; it just left a faint yellow tint. Most of the bruises on her back had gone but the one on her ribs hadn't. It was still there, a cruel reminder. After washing and rinsing her hair she washed herself, giving herself a shave, under the arms and everywhere else. Once she was showered she went into John's room. Some of her clothes were still in there along with her new dress. Sherlock hadn't seen it yet, surprising him with it was one of her gifts to him. She loved it and she hoped he did too.

Sherlock pulled the food out of the oven, and turned to look at the clock. A quarter past six. He puttered around the flat, cleaning up a bit, adjusting decorations. He sighed, feeling a bit nervous.

Molly pulled on her underwear, she still had her hair in the towel. Gently drying her chest she popped her head out of the door, "Sherlock?" she called.

Hearing her, he headed toward the hall "Coming!"

"I need a hand with my bandage!" She called back to him, moving to stand with the compression bandage near her bed, waiting for him to get there.

He entered her room, and for a moment looked quite starstruck. Despite regularly seeing her in less than this when she had needed help showering, he hadn't quite got over how beautiful she was. After a moment, he managed to shake it off. "Alright, let me help. Lucky these ribs only need a week more, at least you won't have to deal with these bandages anymore soon." He began to wrap the bandages securely around her middle, flinching every time she did.

She held onto his shoulders, looking nowhere but his face. "It doesn't hurt too much, not as much as it did anyway." Molly reassured seeing him flinch every time she jumped.

Once the task was finished she got him to help her with her bra then turned him around, stepping into the dark red dress she pulled it up, stepping back her back still turned from him, "Will you zip me up?"

He looked at the way the red dress fell across her, swallowed hard, and moved forward, zipping it up "Is this...new?"

"I…bought it recently….you've never seen me in a dress, so I wanted to see what… you thought…" She spoke hesitantly, feeling his fingers graze across the skin of her back as he zipped the dress. It was soft material, cotton but smooth like silk. It was sleeveless and dropped at the front showing a bit of cleavage. It fell just above the knee flaring out slightly highlighting her figure modestly, the piping around the middle brought it into her waist giving her body more curves. Molly smothered the front down and turned around to face him, "Well?" she asked nervously.

He looked at her, his mouth slightly open, his eyes flicking up and down her, before swallowing and trying to articulate a very high compliment, but only managing "gahblahum..."

Molly let out a soft laugh, taking the towel from her head she began to dry her hair, "Sorry, what was that?"

"You...you look fantastic. Beautiful. Incredible" he threw out the first three adjectives that came to mind, unable to take his eyes off her "Molly I...wow"

Molly let the towel hang from her head, looking like she was playing the part of Mary in the Nativity, her mouth hanging open slightly, "You...really? I was worried, I didn't think you'd like. That I was showing off too much...or whatever." She looked down at herself then back up at him.

He moved across the room, his hands on her upper arm, and smiled slightly. "You look wonderful Molly. Simply beautiful"

Molly grinned at him, "I'm glad you like it." Reaching up she pecked him on the lips, "Now, go, I have my hair to do and people will be arriving soon." She turned him around using his shoulders, turning him towards the door. Molly could resist in giving his bum a light tap, "You don't look so bad yourself Mister Holmes."

He laughed, turning and kissing her full force before letting go and practically sashaying off down the hallway, waiting to greet the guests.

Molly couldn't help but stare at him as he went, shaking her head she looked into the mirror, "Okay Molly, time to knock Sherlock off his feet." She mumbled to herself. Moving all her hair to one side, around one side of her neck she placed clips into the other side to hold it in place. Adding a touch of hair spray she nodded to herself.

She didn't want to go over board on make-up, starting with some powder and putting a little bit of dark eye-shadow on, she added a light touch of mascara. As soon as she was satisfied, she slipped her feet into some black flats and made her way downstairs.


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

John had arrived, along with Mary, Lestrade and his wife, Mycroft and Anthea (whom Sherlock had only grudgingly invited), and of course Mrs. Hudson was there. Sherlock was talking animatedly to Lestrade and his wife Jen, who was a few inches shorter than Lestrade, with hair twisted into a brown knot on her head, and a kind smile. She was listening attentively to Sherlock.

Everyone had placed their Christmas gifts for each other under the tree, and Sherlock looked as though he was explaining something to Lestrade, who was grinning broadly.

Molly could hear all the chatter and suddenly got quite nervous stopping just outside the door fiddling with the lace piping of her dress. It was the first time Sherlock and herself were "on display" for everyone to see. She didn't know how he would react. Would he freeze up? Act as if nothing has happened? There were a few times in the hospital he showed some public affection but that was in front of John. This was different, there was a crowd. Mycroft's here too, along with Anthea, how would he act with them in the room?

John had caught sight of Molly in the doorway and nudged Mary who in turn looked towards Molly.

Mary beamed at Molly "You look amazing!" she gushed, hurrying towards her. Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson, Jen, and Anthea turned.

Sherlock watched her from across the room, smiling slightly.

Molly blushed at Mary's words before catching Sherlock's eye across the room, "Thank-you." She said quietly to Mary.

Both Mycroft and Lestrade looked on, before Greg shouldered Sherlock, "Congratulations mate," He whispered, "She looks lovely."

"Doesn't she though?" said Sherlock in response. He crossed the room to Molly, and there, in full view of Everyone...he kissed her. Molly's eye went wide after a split second before they slid closed and she kissed him back, smiling against his lips. All the doubts left her head, he wasn't scared or embarrassed, so why should she? Silly really, Molly thought to herself. Pulling back, "Hey," She whispered, giving him another quick kiss.

Mrs. Hudson was beaming, her hands over her mouth, while Mary looked a bit stunned but still quite pleased. Mycroft pursed his lips, seeming to suppress the urge to show emotion.

John look on with pride, a grin spread across his face as he took a sip of the amber liquid in his glass. Sherlock was growing, becoming an even more brilliant man than when he first met him. Mary looked at John and said "Looks as if he had a heart after all"

John hummed and nodded a gentle smile on his face as he continued to observe the couple, wrapping his arm around Mary's waist resting his hand on her bump, "She gave him hers..." he mused.

Sherlock smiled at Molly and said "Let's enjoy the party"

Molly smiled and nodded, going to make the rounds, coming to Lestrade first, "Hello Greg, lovely to see you," She gave him a warm hug.

Lestrade was careful of her ribs but still hugged her back, "You too Molly, you look lovely. This is Jen, my wife. Jen this is Molly Hooper."

Jen extended a hand, shaking "I've heard a lot about you. It's lovely to finally meet you, dear"

Sherlock approached John "Wait til we do gifts" he said quietly "I'm saving the main one for Christmas morning, but I have one to give her now"

John eyed Sherlock, "What have you got planned?" Knowing this could go the wrong way fast if Molly was put on the spot in front of everyone he said, "Are you sure Sherlock?"

"John, trust me" said Sherlock "Please do. I'm...I've been working on this for several weeks."

John sighed, "Okay, I trust you. Just don't cock it up on your first night as an official couple."

The party proceeded in style, everyone enjoying each other's company, laughing and talking, until Mrs. Hudson called "Alright, lets open presents!"

Molly moved to stand next to Mrs. Hudson, who was near the fire place, smiling at Sherlock as she did. Lestrade stood by the kitchen door with his wife. Mycroft sat in John's chair, with Anthea on the arm. John and Mary stood near the couch.

Sherlock looked around at everyone opening presents, exclaiming with delight.

Sherlock approached Molly. It was as though every eye was trained on him "Ah...Molly. I got you two things this year, and I'm going to tell you about the first one now."

He paused and took a deep breath, feeling distinctly nervous.

"Approximately a year and a half ago, I recall you telling me that you'd never gone dancing before, because...because you didn't go to your school dance. And I thought...well...Christmas evening, there a big event going on downtown. And it's going to be very fancy and everyone will be dressed formally. So my first gift to you is that...for the past two weeks..." he blushed "I've gone out every lunchtime to...well I told you I was meeting up with John, but in reality..." he turned bright red "I was taking dance classes. So that I could take you out….well, dancing."

Her eyes filled with tears as he explained why he's been repeatedly slamming that poor door every day, he went out of his way and took _dancing_ lessons? For her! Molly wiped the tears from her eyes thankful that her mascara and eye-liner was water proof, "You listened? All that time ago, you listened. I didn't think you knew I was even in the room..." She let out a sniffle and a chuckle.

John heard Mary sniffle beside him and chuckled, knowing it was the hormones. He put an arm around her, smiling.

Mary wiped her eyes, beaming. Everyone looked rather shocked at Sherlock's thoughtfulness.

Sherlock kissed her, smiling "You...you like it?"

She pulled his down by his suit jacket, not caring who saw and planted one on him, holding him there for a good six seconds before pulling away slowly, "I love it Sherlock, thank you." She said quietly looking into his eyes.

Lestrade cleared his throat, "Get a room," he quipped, causing the room to laugh.

Molly blushed and pressed her face into Sherlock chest, chuckling along with everyone else. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her, grinning. He'd been quite nervous, and was totally relieved that she had reacted so positively.

John rolled his eyes and pulled out a hanky from his cardigan pocket and handed it to his silently weeping wife. "Hormones?" John whispered playfully, flinching in case Mary thumped him one. Predictably, Mary smacked John's arm.

"I actually have a gift for you, though it may seem insignificant now," Molly admitted, she looked at John and Mary, "I have one for you both too."

People were filing out, calling goodbyes, leaving Molly, John, Sherlock, and Mary.

Molly saw the guests to the door before coming back up and heading to the tree gently crouching down slowly she pulled out a thin square box before walking and handing it to John and Mary, "It's not much but, well here." Sitting on the arm of Sherlock's chair she gave him a smile before looking back to their best friends.

Mary opened the gift, and a smile grew across her face "Oh Molly..." she said, tears welling in her blue eyes as she looked down at the tiny onesie "This is...oh Molly thank you so much"

John looked down, thinking over the fact that in 6 months, he would have a child, a little daughter or son to fit into the crook of his elbow. He too looked up at Molly, tears of his own in his eyes, "Thank you." He said, his voice thick.

"Oh gosh, no don't cry." Molly rushed as she got up as quick as she could to stand in front of them, not sure what to do.

John was first to stand and wrapped his arms around Molly, "Happy tears Molly, happy tears." Pulling back he kissed her cheek.

Sherlock watched from a few steps behind Molly, his face impassive. He hesitated, then after a moment went and hugged Mary, who went very still in surprise, and then hugged him back.

Molly smiled, looking at Sherlock and Mary embrace. It was now hard to believe not a few week ago he was cold to the fact they were having a baby. Molly silently padded over to the tree, while the trio was inspecting the gift, she pulled out a small cube box, neatly wrapped in dark blue paper with a bow on top.

"Here," she said softly offering the box to Sherlock, "It's not much, but for pre-Christmas I hope it will do."

Sherlock took the box, and for once did not attempt to deduce. He unwrapped it, and looked impassively at the small glass cube in his hand. Within it, specks of blueish light glinted and glimmered "A constellation?" he asked, still looking at the gift, his back to them. His eyes flitted across it, finding an inscription. His name.

"It's _your_ constellation." Molly said trying to tell if he liked it or not, "I did a little digging and found out you like to admire the stars from afar, and well...I named one-or a few after you. Now, instead of looking, you're up there with them." she finished quietly.

He blinked rapidly, looking at the cube, turning it over and over in his hands. He turned slowly to Molly, crossed the room, and pulled her into a tight hug, careful not to hurt her ribs, a smile on his face "Thank you Molly, it's...it's perfect"

Molly sighed in relief and wrapped her arms around him, "You're welcome. I love you so much Sherlock." She whispered in his ear. Looking past him to John she saw him send her a little wink before sitting back with Mary who was still sniffling over the onesie.

Sherlock smiled at her, and then seemed to remember that Mary and John were still in the room. "Was...did everyone enjoy the party, d'you think?" he asked

"Yeah, it was brilliant. More than half of your food is gone, everyone left merry and full. I'd say that's a good party." John said, with Molly nodding along in agreement as she went into the kitchen to get another glass of wine and making sure to pick up the non-alcoholic can of beer for John seeing that Mary still had her juice and Sherlock's drink was on the mantle piece.

Sherlock sank into his chair, a small smile on his face. As soon as Molly was out of the room, he leaned in close to John and Mary "Listen, I need to tell you both something. After Lestrade got our statements a couple days after Molly got out of the hospital, she was...a bit of a mess for a while. And I was thinking over how I could make her feel better..." he hesitated.

John looked at Molly in the kitchen to see her tidying up the leftover food, putting them all onto one plate. He knew it would be hard for Molly to get over everything she went through, from the harassment to losing Toby but so far she was doing so well. He turned back to Sherlock, "What did you have in mind?" Keeping his voice low.

Sherlock hesitated. "Look, it's...I've done something...I...

John glanced in Molly's direction, "Sherlock you have about thirty, forty-five seconds tops before Molly comes back. What have you done?" He asked in a wary tone.

"I just don't know if it was advisable, but I thought maybe he could help, so I-" he was cut off by a loud knocking at the door. He stood, hesitated, and went to answer it.

Mary watched him warily, concern building in her chest.

HE? Who was he? 'Oh god Sherlock what have you done?' John thought to himself. He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose glancing at Mary before getting to his feet, ready to meet whoever 'he' was.

Sherlock opened the door.

There, standing before them, stood a tall man in army fatigues, with a tanned face and a scar above his left eye, wrinkled from the sun.

"Noah Hooper, I presume?" said Sherlock Holmes quietly.


	30. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

John's mouth hung open. HOOPER? His mind yelled, as in the person who was in Afghanistan two weeks ago, as in Molly's elder brother...that Hooper?

Noah nodded to the dark haired man before him, "Sherlock Holmes?" He asked, offering his hand.

Sherlock shook it "You got my call. Good. Now she doesn't know you're here, but I...I'm not going to explain why I called you here, you'll have to let Molly do that, but she needs to see her older brother, Noah. Can you just...wait here a moment, while I go fetch-" he turned around, and cut off short.

Molly was frozen in her spot on the first landing. She must be seeing things, after everything she's finally lost it. Noah was stood in the door way. Her eyes flickered from his face to Sherlock's. Judging by the look Sherlock was wearing this wasn't a surprise visit by her brother. He knew, Sherlock had called him, after she told him, _specifically_ told him not to. "Noah?" She whispered.

"Hello Mols." Noah greeted and stepped into 221 with a grin on his face, he couldn't remember the last time he saw her properly, she looked amazing. The grin soon died when his eyes darted to her neck. He wasn't blind. The remainder of the bruise was clear as day, "Molly?" He asked his eyes snapping from her to Sherlock.

Sherlock stepped forward, and spoke "Molly...I thought..." he hesitated, not sure how to continue.

"No!" She snapped, pointing a warning finger at Sherlock, "No! How could you, how _dare _you Sherlock? I can't believe you did this, I…"

"Molly, please listen…" He started again, looking slightly desperate, but she cut him off.

"NO YOU LISTEN SHERLOCK HOLMES! I told you not to call him here, and you've done it anyway, I _trusted_ you! Damnit Sherlock, I told you…How COULD you?" With that she turned and as quick as she could legged it upstairs, slamming the bedroom door, making both Noah and John wince.

Noah stepped forward, "Why do I get the feeling she doesn't want me here?" His voice taking on an edge, "Why doesn't she want me to see her?"

"It's a long story" said Sherlock, looking pale. "I wanted her to see you because..."

He looked at John, who nodded, saying quietly "Tell him"

Sherlock sighed "Sit down"

While Noah sat on the couch, Sherlock paced in front of him, explaining without going into too much detail what had happened, just as much as was necessary for Noah to get the picture. He didn't want to tell more than he absolutely needed to.

Noah visibly stiffened as Sherlock told him about what happened to Molly, his baby sister. He clenched a fist, shaking slightly, "The bastard behind bars yet?" He said his voice incredibly low.

"Yes. Don't even think about it" said Sherlock stiffly "I know what you're thinking, and I already did it for you. He's still recovering from a fractured skull, last I heard. And I'd do it again, I'd kill him if it meant keeping Molly safe"

The look on his face was frightening in its honesty, for it plainly showed that Sherlock was not exaggerating.

Noah's mouth tightened and he looked up, a brief silent message conveyed between them, one of thanks. "Why did it take you to call me?" He asked pointing at Sherlock, "Why didn't-" he let out a single laugh, "It was because I was in Afghanistan wasn't it? More important things on my mind?"

"She was worried about bringing you home. But it was more than just...having other things on your mind. It seemed to me..." Sherlock hesitated. John and Mary were still standing off to the side. Mary's face was buried in John's shoulder. All the commotion appeared to have greatly upset her, and just hearing what had happened to her friend had reduced her to tears. Sherlock turned back to Noah "It seems to me that she was afraid you would be disappointed in her. She's still afraid of it. I wanted to bring you here to prove to her that she's still got family that loves her and cares for her."

He didn't say anything for a few moments, rubbing his hands together as he leant forward his elbows on his knees. What on Earth was he going to do about this? Molly and he had always had a close relationship, but they hadn't each other in a while. Blowing out a breath he stood to his full height, easily matching Sherlock's, "Right. Okay." Not really knowing which way to go he stood there, "Are you wanting to be there for this?"

"I think...I think it'd be better if I wasn't" said Sherlock "She's...she's going to be quite angry at me for this but...but I've heard her crying in her sleep. And I can't seem to make it stop" he looked a bit helpless "And I needed someone...ANYONE...to help me to help her. And then I thought of you. Even if it means..." he closed his eyes. "...even if it means she never forgives me...even if it means she's done with me...it'll be worth it. Because..." He cleared his throat, turning his back on the three other people in the room "Because she'll be happy."

Noah swallowed thickly and stared at the man in front of him, "I'm not going to ask if you love my sister. Cause that right there just proved it to me." Giving him one last look he went in search for Molly, bounding up the stairs two at a time. A door to the bathroom was open the only other door was closed. Pressing his ear to it he heard her crying. He tried the door handle. Locked.

"Molly, open the door."

Meanwhile, downstairs Sherlock staggered back, leaning against the wall, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking. He'd had to do, he'd lain awake far too many nights listening to her have nightmares. He couldn't help her. His pain tore through him like a knife, piercing his abdomen and ripping up through his body. Her voice seemed to pierce him, 'How COULD you?' she'd screamed. She hated him. It was over, he knew it. He was….alone.

Upstairs, Noah was trying to get Molly to let him in.

Getting nothing but silence for a reply he kicked the door lightly, "Molly Jane Hooper open the door. Now." His voice stern. A few seconds later he heard the click of the lock and the door flew open to reveal a very puffy eyed Molly. Somehow she'd managed to change from her dress into a pair of pajama bottoms and their dad's old college hoodie.

"Hello you," he said with a small smile, her face fell as she began to cry and he immediately engulfed her in his arms, gently stroking her hair as she clung to him. "It's okay. I'm here, I'm here."

"You shouldn't be here." She said with force, into his shoulder.

"Well, now that's no way to treat your brother Molly." Noah said hoping to get a laugh, she pulled back and whacked him on the shoulder.

"Has he told you everything?" she asked, looking a little resentful.

Noah shook his head, "Not everything, no."

She turned and sat on the bed, "I didn't want you here because you had-"

"That's not the reason and you know it." He moved in front of her, "Did you seriously think I would think less of you because of what's happened? Me? That I'd somehow come to the decision to be disappointed in you? Molly, you're my _sister,_ nothing in the world could take what we have from us. Nothing could change the way I see you. You have to believe me."

Molly hung her head, "I feel so...stupid, I'm angry but sad, happy but-" she cut herself off with a frustrated sigh.

"Feeling all those things after what that bastard did to you is understandable Molly. It's going to be hard to get over."

"It's not even that bad, people go through much worse-!"

"Yes! They do! But you aren't other people Molly, this is about you. Everybody is different, everybody has a breaking point."

"I'm broken." She whispered.

"I'm here to help fix you. And so is Sherlock, you've got yourself a good man down there. Go easy on him eh? He was trying to do what's best."

"I know. He's been amazing. Putting up with my..."

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah..." Her voice was hoarse from crying, and her ribs were starting to hurt. She looked up at her brother "I love him. So much, Noah, he means so much to me."

Noah sat next to her, "I'm not here to have my head made bigger, but you need me. Sherlock sees that, why can't you?"

"I don't want to need you." She admitted, her voice breaking.

"I'm your big brother, you'll always need me. Now come on, give me a hug." Molly gave him a watery smile leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her.

Silently, Molly thanked Sherlock for bringing her brother home.

Downstairs, Sherlock stood suddenly. A part of him wanted to go right back up there and talk to her, because he had promised her those weeks ago in the hospital that he wasn't going anywhere. But the way she had looked at him...so betrayed. He looked at John and Mary. John looked as though he wanted to say something, wanted to help. Sherlock turned, and without bothering to put on his coat, he left the flat. He wasn't sure where he was going, but right now he needed some air.

He walked for quite a while. He knew he'd be going back, but something deep within him ached, a long since pushed back craving. He suddenly realized where he was walking, a path he had tread many times before John had arrived. His forearm began to itch as he saw a young man across the street selling packets of white powder to a sleazy looking woman. He closed his eyes. No...not here. Why had his mind brought him here, of all places? He wanted to go home, wanted to talk to her, wanted to explain, but he was surely too late, she hated him now, it was over. He thought of dance lessons and tickets to an event they wouldn't be going to. He thought of Lyla and how attached Molly had gotten to her...well, if he was to be alone, he would do it properly, and give her Lyla. She deserved that, after all.

Three years...three years pushing her away, and now here he was, his father had been right, he'd wrecked it all. But he'd done it for her. For Molly.


	31. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Molly had fallen asleep against Noah. He adjusted her so that she was laying comfortably on the bed, and then went downstairs. He looked around, turning to John "Where's Sherlock got to?"

John shook his head, "He didn't say, he just left."

"Shit! Why would he do a runner?" Noah turned and practically jumped down the stairs, yanking the door open he took off sprinting down the street, his boots pounding on the pavement. He'll be damned if he's going to allow Sherlock to leave his sister. He didn't know how long he'd been running for, up and down streets in and out of alleys but that's when he saw him, watching some drug dealer. Something within Noah Hooper snapped.

"OI!" He bellowed and legged it towards Sherlock, the cold air making his chest tight.

Sherlock turned. He realized it was snowing, and in some dim corner of his mind he processed that it was Noah Hooper running toward him. He stepped back "Don't..." he said "You don't need to say it. She can stay at the flat...it doesn't matter"

He was trying to control his emotions, working at mastering them. But over 2 and a half weeks of being free to express himself with Molly, the ability had left him.

He could feel himself falling apart, and it was like falling into a dark hole. He leaned against the brick wall of the building, sliding to the ground, closing his eyes, intending to stay there, wanting the cold to take him.

Noah skidded to a stop in front of him, "Get, up." He grabbed him by his collar hauling Sherlock to his feet and banged him against the wall, "You listen to me, Holmes, you aren't giving up on my sister, _I_ won't let that happen. You've both been through too much to let it go to waste. She loves you, she still loves you. Everything hit her all at once. She's happy you called me here, she's finally seen what good it can do, how much I can help her along with you." Noah turned around to find the drug dealer watching them, "Shooting up is gonna get you nowhere." Noah let go of him, "Now get your shit together and stand up straight. Molly needs us... She needs _you_."

Sherlock stood there against the wall for a solid minute, trying to process what had just been said. He heard it as though it was being shouted down a long hallway, but one phrase stood out above all the rest.

"Still...she still...?" he looked at the other man, trying to pull him into focus. He reached out, his hand gripping Noah's shoulder "She still...?"

Noah grabbed him roughly by the chin making Sherlock look him in the eye, "She still loves you_ and _she still needs you. You walk out now she won't survive." Saying it more firmly this time.

Meanwhile, back at 221B Molly still puffy eyed, walked out of her room. Searching the whole flat, she was surprised to find herself alone. John and Mary must've left, but where had Sherlock and Noah got to?

"Oh God…" she whispered. What has happened? Had Noah gone after Sherlock? Why else would he leave? And where had Sherlock got to that he needed to be followed?

By the alley several blocks away, Sherlock looked at Noah, and then, without warning, it all snapped back into focus. She still loved him. She still...loved him. And without another word he was off, sprinting as fast as he could, his hair and shoulders dusted with snow, and as he crossed streets and taxi horns blared at him he did not care, he didn't pay any attention. He finally turned onto Baker Street, pounding toward 221B.

At Baker Street, Molly flung open the front door and ran out into the snow covered street, not caring about her lack of shoes, stopping to look around.

Sherlock saw her, running out of 221B, but the air was snatched from his lungs, he felt all of it go at the sight of her, and he skidded to a stop in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. His blue eyes were stinging with tears but he didn't care. He found his voice after several moments. "Molly...?"

She knew exactly why he was running back to his flat. He'd ran away again. As soon as Noah got here things and things went wrong he had run. The look in his eyes made her cry all over again though, she hit his chest, repeatedly, pounding out all her anger, not anger she felt for him, the anger she had pent up since this whole thing had started, relief, to know that he was okay. The dread that filled her when she had found the flat empty "Don't...you...EVER do that...to me again!"

He took the blows, just looking at her "Molly I thought...you didn't want me anymore. I thought that...I thought you didn't...but Noah said you still..." he couldn't clear his head, he was so relieved to be back with her. "I didn't run because I was scared, Molly. I left because...because I thought you didn't..." he couldn't finished the sentence, the words choked him.

She sagged against him, her energy spent. "You idiot. You IDIOT!" She shouted giving him another smack, "How could I not love you? How? I was angry at you yes, for not telling me, but most of it was shock."

Molly looked at Noah, who had caught up and stood off to the left, "Go make a pot of coffee" With a nod, he left them.

Sherlock stood looking at her. He found himself unable to speak, and instead pulling her into a hug, perhaps catching her a bit off guard, but he needed her in his arms, needed to know that she was there, that she was real and solid and that this wasn't just some stress induced hallucination. He needed to be sure that he hadn't imagined it all, that he hadn't shot up in an alley, that this wasn't just some fanciful dream. He needed to know that she was truly and properly there, and that she loved him.

Molly closed her eyes and she melted to his chest, "You have no idea how unbelievably mad I am at you right now. Just because I'm angry at you doesn't mean I don't love you, you daft sod." She pushed him back and took his face into her hands, "You have to stop running, please Sherlock?" Molly couldn't believe that she was begging but he promised her once before, this time she wanted to know if she was going to get her heart broken again. If so, she wouldn't stick around for it to happen.

"Molly...I promise. I promise. I promise" he repeated it again and again. He'd run all his life. From his father, his brother. From kids at school, from fellow students at Uni. He'd run from life with heroin and razors, and tonight he had run for the last time. He swore it to himself. "Never again, Molly, never. I will never give up, not ever"

She let out a sob of relief, tears coming again but these were different; these where happy tears.

He grabbed her and kissed her, suddenly needing to, finding himself wanted to be as close to her as possible. There was nothing overdone about it, it was just an incredible kiss, there in the doorway of 221B. It felt as though every inch of him were ablaze with a searing, incredible happiness.

Molly broke the kiss and placed her forehead against his, breathing heavily, "You're stuck with me Sherlock Holmes. No going back." Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He nodded, looking directly back at her. "Never again, never again." he whispered. They stepped into 221B, relieved to find that John and Mary had already left. Noah was in the kitchen. He seemed to be waiting for them to call him out. Sherlock leaned down, and kissed her, this time a bit more gently, less urgent, sweeter.

She rested a hand on his chest feeling the snowflakes there, as she kissed him back, "I can't feel my feet," she whispered once they broke apart, looking down at her slightly blue extremities with a small laugh.

He scooped her up into his arms (he had become so used to doing such things) and carried her up the steps, entering the living room. He set her down and kissed her again, so relieved to be with her, so glad that she was still here, still loving him, still kissing him back.

It was about a half hour later when Molly heard the kitchen doors slide open and Noah popped his head out, "Everything okay now?"

Molly reached and took Sherlock's hand in hers. She was curled against him on the couch., "Yeah. We'll be fine, Noah."

Coming fully into the living room he strode over to Molly and bent down to give her a strong hug, "Take care, I'll be back tomorrow once I've got settled. I'm staying with a mate at the moment. I've got a week before I have to get back to barracks."

Molly nodded into his shoulder, "Thank you so much for coming," she turned to Sherlock, "and thank you for bringing him here." She said quietly.

Sherlock nodded to Noah, hoping he wouldn't tell her where he had been...what he had almost done. He didn't know if Molly would ever forgive him if she knew.

Noah glanced between Molly and Sherlock. Molly deserved to know what he was about to do half an hour ago. He gave Sherlock a pointed look and hugged Molly again, "I think you two need to talk. See you later Mols, love you."

"Love you too." She called as she watched him leave before turning to face Sherlock on the sofa.

Sherlock turned to Molly and hesitated. Would she ever forgive him? But the look Noah had given him...he had to tell. He knew it.

"Molly..." he started, not sure where to begin.

"What? What is it?" Molly looked at him slightly worried, reaching forward, "Tell me..."

"Molly, you didn't know me very well...before John came. You didn't know many details about my life. Perhaps John's told you but...I'm very prone to..." he hesitated "Addiction. It happened twice in my life. For a while my addiction was harming myself, but after that, it was…illicit substances."

Molly stared at him, "I-I well, I know." She moved slightly coming nearer to him, "I wont- I mean I don't judge you. For me, my dad smoked, that's an addiction. My auntie couldn't stop knitting, that's an addiction, it may not be as serious as yours but it's still there." she finished softly.

"Well for me..." He said carefully "before I knew John it was...heroin" he looked at his lap, seeming vulnerable and small. "And sometimes... after a...a stress..." He swallowed hard. "I get cravings"

"Was it... Was it because of me?" she held her hands up and quickly added, "I'm not trying to make this about me Sherlock but... Did I drive you to that?"

"Not you." He said firmly "Just the thought that I had lost you. And honestly Molly, I just needed some air, just a quick walk. But...I wasn't paying attention. And I ended up in the place where I used to buy... It." He looked at her "Molly, if Noah hadn't found me when he did... I don't know where I would be." He buried his face in his hands.

Molly moved, with some difficulty, so she was kneeling in between his legs, "Sherlock," she pried his hands away from his face, "I'm thankful that Noah got to you in time...but if you had chosen to do it," Taking a deep breath she continued, "I would have help you through the aftermath. I mean it when I say I love you. Nothing, not even those horrid drugs could take that away."

He looked up at her, the tension in his shoulders lessening. He gripped her hands, smiling. The clock chimed, and Sherlock glanced at it. "It's officially Christmas Eve." He leaned in close and murmured, "Thank you. I love you Molly Hooper"

"Don't _ever_ thank me for sticking by you, I did it once," she said firmly referencing to his life straight after The Fall, "I'll do it again." Molly placed a kiss on his lips, "I love you too."

The kiss he returned started sweet, but as it progressed it became deeper, a bit more passionate. He meshed his fingers into her hair, the other arm wrapped around her waist.

He had become prone to surprising her with kisses like that, but they had never compared to this, a kiss that seemed to come straight from the most hidden part of himself, a kiss that was powered by every feeling he'd ever had for Molly Hooper.

Molly gripped the material that was his suit pants, the intensity of his kiss surprising. She moaned onto his lips and ran her hands up his thighs kneading the tense muscles, her mind registering what was at the top of said thighs.

Next moment, he was standing, pulling her flush against him, kissing her harder than ever before, a bit rougher now, a bit less controlled.

She bit his lip hungrily, soothing the sting with a lick of her tongue, meanwhile her hands ran through his dark curls, "Sherlock..." She whispered as of his name were a prayer.

He was breathing hard, his voice low and husky as he growled "Molly..."

His mind was almost completely blank, and his senses were overwhelmed by her, the smell of her like almonds and tea and vanilla, the tugging of her hand in his hair, and he was barely conscious of his response, the lows moans coming from deep within his chest, and other very noticeable reactions. It took all his self-control to keep his mind in any way focused.

She pulled back for a split second her lips finding any skin that weren't his lips, his cheeks, forehead, chin, nose, kissing them all. Molly moved one hand down and laced hers over the top of his hand that was near her backside. She couldn't get over the feel of his lips, his body against hers he was intoxicating, she found that she couldn't breathe but as soon as she found his lips on hers again she was alive. She let out a guttural moan as his lips met her neck.

He couldn't help himself. He turned, pressing her against the wall and moving down her jawline to her neck. She tasted sweet, and he couldn't get enough of her. He nipped and sucked at a single spot on her neck, turning the place red, and then giving the other side similar treatment. He was fighting to regain control of himself, but couldn't seem to.

Molly shifted her neck as she felt his teeth sink into her skin fisting a handful of his hair, she tugged eliciting a moan from him. She was on fire, everywhere. She couldn't think straight all of her was focusing on Sherlock, placing a hand on his jaw she guided him back to her lips before letting her feet hit the floor. "I...oh my..." She mumbled, unbuttoning Sherlock's suit jacket and shoving it off his shoulders.

"Wait...wait" he gasped out. It was taking all his will power to do this, but it had to be said "Molly...are you sure...now?" He was trembling slightly, but not out of fear. He needed to be sure she was okay before they proceeded into anything more.

Molly touched his cheek and kissed him softly, "I am, if you are." She mumbled against his lips, pulling back when she felt him shaking, "Sherlock, we-we don't have to..."

He cut her off by kissing her again, a rough kiss. He pulled her toward their bedroom, pulling at her clothes, kissing her and simply knowing that this was going to be incredible.


	32. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The morning of Christmas Eve dawned bright, cold, and snowy. Sherlock Holmes awoke with his arms wrapped around Molly Hooper, a small smile on his face. Her head was rested on his bare chest. His mind wandered to the night before, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Molly felt warm...and very comfy. For once she's woken up and her ribs don't hurt, which was strange considering what her and Sherlock got up to last night. Stretching she let out a long groan as several joints popped opening her eyes she saw Sherlock staring back at her, "Morning." She whispered, a smile appearing on her face.

"Good morning" he said in his low baritone. A smile played at his lips as he pushed a bit of hair out of her face. "How do you feel?"

"Great," her smile turned into a grin, "I feel amazing." She ducked her head letting out a laugh. Looking back up she began to trace circles on his chest, "What about you?" She bit her lip in anticipation.

"It was worth the wait to have my first time be with you...and it was fantastic"

Molly ducked her head again, this time blushing. She kissed his chest before settling back down on his chest, she poked his side lightly, "I could lay here all day."

"Me too..." He said softly, and at that precise moment...the doorbell rang.

Molly groaned, "Why?" She asked in jest and held onto Sherlock tighter to stop him from getting up, "Leave it. If it's important they'll come back later."

Sherlock nodded, relaxing against the pillows. Then a voice came through the door "Sherlock! Open the door mate, its John, I just want to make sure you two are alright!" Sherlock groaned, rolling his eyes and getting out of bed, pulling on a pair of boxers and tying on his dressing gown.

Molly pressed her face into the edge of the pillow and let out frustrated sigh. Couldn't she just have a moment with Sherlock, that no one disturbs, no drama. Getting up she found Sherlock's t-shirt and her pajama bottoms putting them both on slowly she ran a hand through her hair and followed him downstairs, "I'll put the kettle on." She called as she walked into the kitchen.

"Sorry..." He said quietly, and headed for the door with a grumpy sigh. He opened it, snapping "What John?"

John looked slightly taken aback. "I just wanted to make sure you and Molly are alright"

"Right, we're fine thanks" said Sherlock sharply.

"Alright mate well...hang on, is that a bite mark? Are you _naked_ under that Sherlock?" John looked at him incredulously.

Molly laughed softly when she heard Sherlock's short replies, blushing a little as John asked about the mark. She _may_ have got a bit carried away last night. Sherlock wasn't complaining at the time. Placing three steaming cups of tea down on the table she waited for the men to come up. She winced when her ribs flared with pain, taking a deep breath she filled a glass with water, taking two pain killers she swallowed them with one swig.

"Alright...cone up then" muttered Sherlock. John followed behind him, grinning broadly.

When he entered the kitchen, he noted the purple marks on her neck and said with a smirk "Hello Molly. You two made up have you?"

Her eyes went wide and her face red she shot her hands to her neck, "We..." Gaining some confidence, she smirked back at him, "Yeah we did. Couple of times actually." She sat back taking a sip of her tea, happy to see a faint pink tint on John's cheeks.

Sherlock nearly choked on his tea, looking proudly at Molly. "Well John, you've satisfied yourself that we're alright. You'd best call Mary and report back"

Molly looked between Sherlock and John, noticing the look on John's face, "John?"

He looked a bit embarrassed. "Well I...she was worried about you. And so was I" he pulled his phone out and went to call her from the other room.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at Molly. "Isn't it nice having such concerned parents?"

Molly giggled, "I thought I was going to get told off for having a boy in my room." She touched her neck while she glanced back at where John had gone and then back to Sherlock, "What do you want to do today? I was going to suggest going out for dinner but its Christmas Eve, it'll be hard to get in anywhere... And we could ask John and Mary, if Mary is feeling up to it."

"I suppose so" said Sherlock with a slight smile. "Of course, we mustn't forget dancing tomorrow... I mean, if you still want to."

Molly stood and walked over to him wrapping her arms around his waist, "I wouldn't miss it for the world," she murmured as she kissed him.

He kissed her back, dipping her slightly.

John cleared his throat. Sherlock looked up with a sigh "You understand that we don't need a chaperone, don't you John?"

Molly bit back a grin and looked over at John, "How's Mary?" She asked, pushing Sherlock playfully in the shoulder but refusing to move out of his arms.

"Relieved" said John simply.

"Will you two be joining us for Christmas Eve dinner?" Asked Sherlock unexpectedly

Molly shot Sherlock a surprised look. She didn't expect him to ask, not straight away at least, "John?" Molly turned to the doctor with a small smile on her face.

John looked at Sherlock in surprise "Ah... Well sure. Absolutely, sounds wonderful."

"Well then I suppose I'd better put some clothes on" mumbled Sherlock quietly, leaving the room.

Molly frowned at Sherlock's retreating back and then to John, "What...excuse me." She walked upstairs to see Sherlock in the bathroom, "Do you not want to go to dinner? I thought with you asking him-"

He turned to face her, wearing a pair of trousers, though his torso was bare. "Of course I want him to come"

She came to stand toe to toe running her hands up his chest and over his shoulders to lock around his neck, "You sure? You looked rather put out downstairs when John said yes...We could always stay in?" Placing a kiss to his neck she looked up at him with a glint in her eye.

He shuddered pleasurably at her touch, and saying quietly "as completely tempting as that offer is, I think we ought to go out with friends for a bit. We haven't seen them very much. But perhaps after we get home...?"

Letting out an exaggerated sigh a pout formed on her lips, "Okay... It would be nice to see Mary, have some girl talk." She admitted.

"Good" he said, kissing her firmly. When they returned to the kitchen, they found a note left by John, saying he'd left and he hoped they used protection. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

Washing her hands and face Molly went into the bedroom picking out a floral blouse and a pair of light blue jeans, dressing with some difficulty, she quickly brushed her hair and tied it back in a plait. A shooting pain went around her chest causing her to bend in pain, "Bloody hell!" She hissed.

Slipping her feet into a pair of flats she shuffled downstairs with a hand on her ribs. Molly walked into the kitchen, going straight to the cupboard where the pain killers where kept.

"Molly...?" Sherlock turned, his eyes wide. "Are you alright?"

"I just pulled my chest while doing my hair," she said getting a glass of water and swallowing the pills, "I'm fine," waving him off and finishing the last of the water.

He moved forward, touching her cheek "are you...can I do anything?"

"No. It's fine-I'm fine." She said squeezing her eyes shut trying to brush it off. Moving to get her coat she turned around to him, "Come on, where are we going?" She rushed.

"I've just texted John. He said they'd meet us at Giovellis at 7" he said, kissing her gently.

She looked at the clock, quarter too six, "Oh." She looked down sheepishly, "better take this off then," gesturing to her coat she slipped it off.

He eyed her for a moment, his eyes sweeping appreciatively over her "You look beautiful as always"

"Hardly. This bruise doesn't seem to want to go." She mumbled looking down at her top where the bruise would be. She seemed to be lost in her own little world. Suddenly Molly brightened up, "Sorry! What were you saying?"

"I said..." He moved forward, his face an inch from hers, and whispered in a voice of ringing sincerity "You look beautiful" he smiled at her "You always do"

She looked at him for a moment. Molly had never felt beautiful, not even growing as a teenager; she always got told by the girls in her year that she shouldn't try to wear make-up or fancy clothes because they wouldn't do anything to help her appearance. Nothing would work.

"Sometimes I...don't feel beautiful." She admitted looking into his eyes, "This," she pointed to her side, "doesn't make me feel beautiful."

"But it doesn't matter" he responded immediately, one hand rested on her cheek. "Molly, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever known. And not just physically but...who you are, Molly Hooper, who you are deep down, multiplies your beauty 100 fold. And I would choose nobody else, I wouldn't exchange you for the world, and I would rather spend time with you, watching a silly movie on the telly, then be anywhere else"

A tears made its way down her cheek as she looked up at him, "I used to believe the things you said about me, those horrible comments." She shook her head wiping her eyes, "I would love to go back in time and give you a whack," she said laughing slightly, "You always know how to make me feel better Sherlock."

He flinched slightly at the memory of his colder, harsher comments. He shook his head "Molly...I'm so sorry" he kissed her gently "I'm so so sorry"

Molly smiled into the kiss, her face still wet with her tears, "I don't care. I would go through it all again, _everything_, just to have this...here, now."

He pressed a firmer kiss to her lips, brushing away her tears with her thumb when he released her. "Molly, I love you"

"I love you too. Always." She took a hold of both of his hands intertwining their fingers swinging their hands a little, "We have an hour. What do you want to do?"

"Whatever you wish" he said with a broad smile, quite unlike his usual smirk.

"We could-" A distinct purring sound came from their feet, looking down Molly saw Lyla was with them, "Hello you," Pulling Sherlock to the sofa she sat down, causing him to drop down with her, she watched as Lyla jumped onto the sofa, "Hello Lyla." Molly cooed.

Sherlock smiled, stroking the little three legged cat "Thank you." When she looked at him questioningly he smiled "For getting me to adopt her"

"You would have eventually. I saw the way you looked at her, the way you cared for her. It was only a matter of time," she said softly, "I just gave you a premature nudge." Molly giggled as Lyla pushed her head into her chin.

"It really was just a matter of time, wasn't it?" He said with a smile. He wasn't looking at Lyla though. His eyes never left Molly's face.

Molly's face became somber as his words sunk in and she leaned into him, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss, "I wouldn't change anything about what happened," she murmured, "As horrible as it was, still is, I'm glad because it brought me to you. Made me realize..."

"Realize what?" he asked, looking at her curiously.

"That it was you all along. As much as I denied it all the other men were a distraction, a way to get you out of my head." She glanced at Lyla then looked back up to Sherlock, "It's always been you and it took all that to make me realize how much you mean to me."

He looked at her for a moment, simply looked at her as though he barely understood what she was saying. He reached out and touched her cheek, looking surprised when his hand made contact.

Leaning into his hand she turned and kissed his palm. She tilted her head and peered at him, "Still with me Sherlock?" She asked seeing the far off look in his eyes.

"I just keep expecting..." He looked at her, seeming a bit helpless, almost sad, as though some imminent tragedy hung over him.

"What?" She asked taking his hand in her own, the look on his face made her heart want to break.

"To wake up" he said softly, his hand still on her cheek "To realize I've given in and shot up in some alleyway and this is all a hallucination... To snap back to reality in the morgue, where everything is as it was. Or to...to wake up in my bed, and face another day a-alone."

"You never have to be alone again Sherlock. Never ever." She shook her head, "This is real. You aren't dreaming, you aren't high. You're here with me...and Lyla. I helped you fake your death once, now I'm going to make sure you live, a best I can." Sighing she placed a kiss on his cheek, "I'm not going to say everything will be bright and shiny for us, no relationship is. I'm not at my best at the moment, I know you listen to my nightmares, you put up with my emotional outburst. I'll try though, I will try to make you see I'm not going anywhere. I've finally got the man, I'm not letting him go." She finished with a small smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

He squeezed her hand back, leaning forward and kissing her very gently, savoring the feeling of the woman he loved in his arms.


	33. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Something sparked in Sherlock's eyes and he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her, a slow, languid, lingering kiss.

Molly hummed against his lips, the hand that wasn't stroking Lyla occupied itself within his thick curls. Finally breaking the kiss Molly's cheeks had a pink tint, "What...what was that for?" She asked rather breathless.

He looked at her, and smiled "I just love you so much I can hardly bear it sometimes." He said, scratching behind Lyla's ear

"I love you too." Giving him a peck on the nose, she reached to grab his wrist lifting his cuff to see the time, "Half past six, shall we get going?"

Sherlock smiled, standing and taking her hand. As the pair walked out, clad in their coats, into the snowy London air, Sherlock inhaled deeply, thinking of a Christmas that he would at last not spend alone, a Christmas with the woman he'd loved for so long by his side.

When they arrived at the restaurant, John and Mary were already seated, Mary sipping water, John with a barely touched glass of wine in front of him. Sherlock nodded in greeting to them both, pulling Molly's chair out for her.

Molly smiled her thanks to Sherlock as she sat down, "Hello you two. Mary you look lovely! How's the baby?"

Mary beamed at her friend, "Brilliant! Thank you, the morning sickness is finally out the way, I hope." She crossed her fingers.

"Good." said Sherlock "I'm sure it was unpleasant, and I'm glad you're past it"

John stared at him. He still wasn't used to this kind, polite version of Sherlock. He noted that Sherlock had worn a shirt that covered the mark, and that Molly's hair was down, hiding the hickeys. He smirked.

Sherlock called the waiter over and ordered his and Molly's drinks, surprising everyone by knowing precisely what she enjoyed.

Molly's hand found a home on Sherlock's thigh under the table. She knew how hard it was for him in the beginning, finding out about the pregnancy, feeling like he was losing his best friend. In a way he'd gained a new friend in Mary and soon would gain another friend in Baby Watson.

Mary smiled at Sherlock before turning to John, "Actually," she hesitated, "John and I have something to ask you both..."

Sherlock looked at Molly, then turned to the pair, struggling with himself, fighting not to deduce, finally winning and nodding mutely.

"Well um…" Looking at Sherlock, she continued, "We wanted you to be the first we asked, we've given it some thought and we'd delighted if you and Molly would be the child's God Parents?" Mary waited with a baited breath.

"I-oh my god!" Molly's hand tightened on Sherlock's thigh, "We'd be-" she stopped herself from answering for him and turned to look at him.

Sherlock was sitting very still. His eyes flicked between John and Mary, his eyebrows furrowed "You want me as well? To be...the godfather, you mean?"

Mary grinned giving him a nod, "Who else would we choose... That is, if you want to?"

"I..." Sherlock turned his head ever so slightly to look at Molly, then to John, as though not sure if he was hearing correctly. John nodded to him, but looked slightly concerned. Mary was set off so easily these days...if he suddenly reverted back to his old self, the evening would not go well. And then...Sherlock Holmes surprised everyone.

"I'd be honored" he said with a smile that was completely genuine, and much more open then John had seen Sherlock smile in a long time. Even when he was with Molly, in company he still looked a bit guarded. But here he was, completely himself, and yet himself in a way that John had never seen before.

Mary was clapping her hands and out of her seat, as fast as she could, and went to hug Sherlock, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, when all of a sudden she was crying, "Oh! Sorry! Happy tears!"

Molly was grinning from ear to ear, she looked to Sherlock who looked slightly taken aback with Mary's reaction, laughing along with John she said, "Thank you."

Sherlock was indeed surprised with Mary's reaction, but his response to her was even more surprising. He stood and hugged her, a surprisingly gentle hug for a man so tall. He stepped back, his hands on her arms, saying "Congratulations, Mary. You'll make a wonderful mother."

Mary's face crumpled and she started crying all over again, reaching up she wrapped her arms around him again whispering in his ear, "You'll be an amazing father one day." Pulling back she winked at him and sat back do

He looked at Mary, his mouth slightly open, frozen for an instant before managing to regain his composure. He shared a look with Mary that he never had with anyone before, not John nor Molly. John knew, of course, what Sherlock was like. He knew his personality extremely well. Molly knew his heart, his soul, what was buried beneath the cold exterior. His past. But Mary? Mary had deduced in an instant the strength of what he felt for Molly, something that not even Molly fully understood yet.

As they ordered their food, Sherlock's eyes kept flicking to Molly. His mind drifted to a future as yet unknown, more Christmases, ordering in, wedding bells and maybe finding a bigger flat or a home just outside the city, where the children could..._CHILDREN? _He thought to himself, and then mentally shook his head, thinking 'Mary really does have me pegged.'

Molly kept gazing at Mary's small bump with a sad look in her eyes. Children? She was almost for certain, that would never happen; Sherlock wasn't one to shout about not wanting kids but she knew he'd never been that kind of man. Molly knew going into this that, that children, maybe even marriage would be off the table. Sherlock Holmes wasn't the most conventional type of bloke.

As they ate the feelings and thoughts carried on festering in her head, she watched Mary and John talk about baby things, Sherlock occasionally giving his input. Molly knew she wanted children but if that meant giving up Sherlock she would gladly toss the notion of children away.

Sherlock was thinking hard over something. They'd been together two and a half weeks, was it silly to already be thinking about these things? He and Molly were responsible adults and used protection, so he doubted any shocks, but still, the notion of children was appealing to him. He had a brief mental image of holding a baby, and found a small smile quirking his lips. He must've looked out of it though, because John seemed to be noticing. He snapped back to attention, participating in the general smalltalk and laughter.

Mary sat back with a groan, dropping her napkin on her bare plate she placed a hand on her belly rubbing it affectionately, "I could not eat...another bite."

Molly up until this point had been rather quiet, "Excuse me." she mumbled and got up heading towards the ladies' room.

Sherlock watched her go, looking concerned. "Mary..." he said quietly "would you mind going to check on her? She doesn't seem herself."

Mary glanced at John then nodded to Sherlock, getting up she went to the toilet in search of Molly.

Good God, get a hold of yourself woman, Molly thought to herself, you haven't been with the man for more than five minutes and you're already imagining white dresses and children running around. She was so happy for John and Mary, but jealousy bit through her every time she saw them. Happy, normal couple. Not that she wanted that, she loved the relationship she and Sherlock have, it was never going to be normal. Splashing her face with cold water she dabbed it dry with a towel, she refused to cry. This was neither the time nor the place, in fact it wasn't a reason to cry. She'd had enough of crying, she was spent.

The door creaked and Mary voice filled the room, "Molly?"

"What's wrong?" Mary placed her hands on her hips, as if she was a mother questioning an errant daughter.

"Nothing I just needed-"

"Bollocks Molly and you know it. Come on, the boys aren't here it's just me."

Molly leant against the wall blatantly staring at Mary's bump with a longing look, "I'll never have that. At least, I don't think I will. Sherlock he...I know we've only been together a few weeks and it didn't really start out how most relationships do but it works for us. I just-"

"Stop Molly." Mary said coming towards her, "You _will_ have this, and you know why? Because I've seen the way Sherlock looks at you, he has this smile on his face as if he's dreaming about something, he thinks people don't see but I do. Just, talk to him Molly."

"How? I can't just turn around and say, 'Hey Sherlock, in a few months let's pop out some kids and hey we could get married too!' he'd run a mile."

Mary laughed, "He won't. Trust me, he may be a little wary at first, let's face it, it's Sherlock we're talking about."

Molly nodded with a fond smile on her face, feeling reassured but still slightly anxious, "Okay."

Meanwhile, Sherlock was drumming his fingers on the tabletop, looking worried and thoughtful. John leaned across the table "Alright Sherlock...what's going through that head right now?"

Sherlock paused, and looked at him "John, you'll think I'm mad if I tell you"

John rolled his eyes "Honestly Sherlock, I live with a woman who requests tuna on her jelly sandwiches! I'm quite used to 'mad' at this point"

Sherlock nodded, then leaned forward and began to explain.

Sherlock sat up as soon as the women left the restroom, his eyes on Molly, who he was alarmed to see looked very pale. He took her hand, giving it a brief squeeze as she walked by.

John looked slightly shell shocked, as though a bomb had gone off somewhere nearby, but quickly smoothed his face over to its usual look. "Everything alright?" he asked in what he hoped was a casual voice.

Molly ran her hand along Sherlock's shoulder as she sat down, "Yeah," she nodded and placed a kiss on his lips, "It's fine. Girl talk."

Mary looked from Sherlock to John, her eyes narrowing on her husband's form as she took her seat, "Are you...okay?" She asked arching an eyebrow.

"Fine, I'll explain later, I don't want you to start crying now" said John to Mary, in a voice so low Molly couldn't hear.

The check came, and Sherlock insisted on paying for them all. He left a tip, and stood, saying "Thank you for spending your Christmas Eve with us" He gave John a significant look, and John nodded, not quite able to keep the bemused expression off his face.

Molly went around and hugged both Mary and John goodbye before coming to take Sherlock's hand, not missing the look passed between him and John. They're up to something, or have talked about something, she thought to herself.

"Bye!" She called as they left.

Sherlock hailed a taxi, opening the door for her as usual, then going around and taking his own seat, giving the driver the address. He looked at Molly out of the corner of his eye. The tension was palpable.

His mind raced, but he couldn't understand. Had he said something? Done something? What had passed between Mary and Molly in the bathroom? He contemplated the back of the driver's seat as he thought, his fingers drumming against his thigh.

"Tonight was nice," Molly stated quietly, looking at the city passing by from her seat. It was strange. The tension in the car was suffocating and yet, nothing had happened, not between her and Sherlock at least. Molly was wondering whether to bring up the subject tonight, but if it caused a disagreement then it would ruin their first Christmas together.

He looked over at her, his eyes slightly narrowed. He wanted to know what was wrong, to fix it. But instead he simply agreed. He got out, paid the cabbie, and opened the door for her, offering her a tentative smile.

Returning his smile she walked up into the flat, "I'm going to make a cup of hot chocolate, do you want one? It's a tradition I have on Christmas Eve, cup of coco before bed." Hoping he wouldn't bring what happened tonight up, or ask what she and Mary had talked about. She went into the kitchen without realizing that she hadn't taken her coat off.

"Ah, no thanks!" he called. He was glad Christmas was tomorrow. Hopefully his present would diffuse the tension, but he still felt a little shaken. It had been weeks since there was tension like that between them. That may not've been long for some, but for Sherlock it was a miracle he'd made it this far.

With a steaming cup of hot chocolate she made her way into the living room and curled up in John's seat in front of the fire. She let her mind wonder for a few moments carefully sipping at the hot liquid. Molly knew she wanted children, eventually, could Sherlock be talked round? She didn't know, she didn't fancy trying if it ruined their relationship. She thought about how he has slowly gotten used to the idea of John having a baby and warmed up to Mary. Did that mean he wanted kids of his own? She didn't realize nearly five minutes had gone by, looking around she couldn't see Sherlock anywhere.

Sherlock had padded back into his room. He was sitting straightbacked on the end of the bed, his eyes closed, evidently thinking very hard. His fingers were drumming out an irregular beat on his thigh, and his lips moved soundlessly.

Finishing her hot chocolate she went in search of Sherlock, going into his bedroom she saw him stiff as a board on the end of his bed, dropping her head she sighed she should just come out and say it, otherwise it's going to grow and grow until one of them explodes, "I want children!" She blurted out her eyes going wide, "I want children and I'm scared you don't and-and every time I see Mary, I...I'm reminded of the one thing I may never have." she finished quietly.

His eyes flashed open, looking at her in complete shock. He stood, looking at her, his face more reserved now "Children?" he repeated, looking at her questioningly.

"Children." She confirmed, playing with the hem of her blouse, "I'm sorry if that scares you. If having children means losing you, then I don't want children."

He stood, looking at her in complete awe. His mind was buzzing with at least a hundred different thoughts, prominent among them was that she was willing to give up a dream to stay with him, and that he could not bear. Alongside that came the relieved thought that she was also contemplating the future, as far ahead as it might be. "Stop" he said firmly, moving forward, and speaking truthfully "Molly...I want children too." his voice was soft, and genuine. "Really I do. The idea has been growing on me for some time...but there was only one person I could imagine having them with" he tipped her chin up with his fingertips "Nobody but you, Molly, nobody."

"You really-I mean..." She closed her eyes at the sudden wave of emotions, relief, excitement. He wants children, he wants them with _her_. "Sherlock, you have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that." Grinning and grabbing his suit jacket she placed a firm kiss on his lips, running her hands through his hair, when oxygen was needed she broke off, "I was so so worried you would shut the door even on the very notion of having kids."

He shook his head, pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her and gazing down at her upturned face. "No, I've been thinking about it. And I really think it's something I want, but..."

That sinking feeling was back in her chest. She was preparing for the "it doesn't fit in with my work" speech and that would be it, her dreams of a family with Sherlock would be shattered. She found interest in looking at his top button, "But?"

"But...what if I'm lousy at it?" he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at his feet "what if I'm not good at being a dad, my father certainly wasn't a great example! Molly, I don't know if I could...could ever be considered a good father, and I want kids, I do! But I don't want them to have to deal with me...being..." he sighed, and rubbed at his eyes. "I've never had a great experience with my father. I don't have anyone to show me how, and Molly I'm scared, I'm scared that whatever children we have won't...won't...that they'll dislike me" he finished, sure he hadn't articulated his feelings well enough. He truly did want children, but he couldn't bear the idea of them growing to hate him. True, he wouldn't be an abusive bastard like his father had been, but still.

Molly stared at Sherlock. She hadn't been expecting that at all. He was always full of confidence, never one to doubt his own abilities. Getting down she knelt in front of him and placed her hands on his knees, "Sherlock they won't hate you. They'll love you, you'll be caring protective...god help if we have a daughter and she brings home a boy. You'll be telling them things about their teachers that probably the teachers themselves don't even know." She let out a small laugh, "You're going to be a thousand times better than your father, you know why? Because you're a good man, a brilliant man. I'm sure John would love to have 'Dad Meetings' with you." She sighed, "Look, your dad was a very horrible man. No one should have to go through what you went through but maybe that is what will make you the wonderful father you're going to be." Molly rested her forehead against his, touching his cheek gently with her delicate hand.

He took a long deep breath, taking her hands. He smiled, and leaned up and kissed her "Molly...have we just agreed to...?" he laughed softly "Two and a half weeks I've been with you, and we live together and are talking about kids."

"From the get go we knew this relationship wasn't going to be normal." She laughed along with him leaning on her hands, her elbows perched on his thighs, "I mean...it feels right though, right?"

"Very right" he said, more sure than ever that what he had talked to John about was the right decision. His hands shot out, gripping her hips and rolling so that she was pinned under him, half on half off the bed, he attacked her lips with his own before pulling back, looking satisfied at the ruffled and shocked look of her.

Her mouth hung open for a few seconds as the ever so slightly shocked look stayed on her face, suddenly a glint appeared in her eye and she raised an eyebrow, "Mister Holmes," she drawled out, tracing a single finger down his spine, "Where on Earth did you learn to kiss like that?" Her hand got as far as it could before shooting back up and gripping the back of his head roughly tugging his curls, bringing him in for another searing kiss.

He kissed her fiercely, roughly, his hands propping him up above her, a low moaning growl building in his chest, he moved down to her neck, across her collarbone, back up to her mouth again. He stopped kissing her for a moment, a moment just long enough to give her a broad, rather cocky smile.

"Now you're just showing off." She whined. Surprising herself with her strength and very surprised that she didn't do damage to her ribs, she flipped them. In a second they were further up on the bed, though Sherlock's feet still touched the floor Molly was able to kneel on the bed, straddling his lap.

He looked startled, but took it in strides, reaching up and pulling her down so that their lips met, and he tugged at her clothes impatiently, a smile on his face as he looked up at the slightly flushed face of the woman he loved as he had never loved anyone before.


	34. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

She laid with her head on his chest, listening to his heart beating rhythmically the sound lulling her into slumber. Basking in the glorious afterglow she stretched languidly and snuggled into his side more, getting comfy, "Love you Sherlock, g'night." Molly's voice was muffled by his body, sleep was near as she relaxed against him.

He lay beside her, tugging the blankets up around them, knowing they'd get cold otherwise. He pulled her close, murmuring in her ear "I love you, Molly. I love you and I always will"

Molly woke slowly that morning, warm and pressed against Sherlock's body. A grin formed on her face when she lifted her head to see he was still asleep. She began to realize what day it was and her grin widened. Raising herself up on her elbows she kissed his chest, moving up to his neck, his jaw and then placing a soft one on his lips. "Merry Christmas Sherlock." She whispered into his ear.

His eyes flickered open, and he smiled at her drowsily "Marry Christmas Molly" he kissed her gently, pulling her close and smiling contentedly.

Outside Baker Street, London was white with snow. Sherlock was tired, but satisfied. He'd left around 5 this morning and returned only a few hours ago while Molly was still asleep.

"I don't want to move," Molly moaned as she let out a yawn, curling a leg around his waist she sank into the bed even further, laying her head on his shoulder. "I love waking up to you." She was looking at his chin, all the freckles splayed along his neck reaching forward she placed a kiss on one of them, near his Adams apple.

He shivered slightly, pulling her close and smiling "Well, it's about 10 o'clock. We could just...lie here for a bit, if you like?"

His mind was in overdrive as always, filling out his plan for New Years, his plan for her Christmas gift (which he was fairly nervous about), and now he could allow his mind to wander further into the future, to children and marriage and a little house outside the city.

Molly smiled and pressed her nose into his neck, "I'd like that...but I need to make a call to mother nature." She said with a sigh, "Back in a minute," pushing up from his chest she slid out of bed, looking around she spotted Sherlock's suit shirt, smirking she slipped it on and did up two buttons in the middle before walking out the room swaying her hips as she went.

He watched her go appreciatively, a small smile on his face. With a groan he pulled himself out of bed to tug on a pair of boxers. He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to return.

Nipping to the toilet she quickly ran a brush through her hair pulling into a loose bun. She brushed her teeth and headed back to bed. Walking into Sherlock's room she saw he was out of bed...sort of, "No, no, no," she whined, moving to stand in between his legs she pushed on his shoulders playfully, "What are you doing, the bed is getting cold."

He laughed, tugging her hand "Alright alright, I just wanted to have some form of clothing on." He pulled back the bedcovers, waiting until they were both under them before tugging them around their bodies. He pulled her into his arms so that her head lay on his chest, a light smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Why?" She walked her fingers down his chest stopping just short of his waistband, "I like you better with your clothes off." She grinned cheekily at him, walking her fingers back up and bopping on his nose.

He grinned at her "Oh really?" he kissed her, smiling as he pulled back "You, Miss Hooper, are quite a temptation. But not right now." he said firmly, pulling her closer to him.

She tutted and poked his side, "Spoil sport." Getting settled again, half on half off him she sighe deeply, when a thought occurred to her, "Sherlock...have we got a turkey?" She asked with a laugh. She knew she hadn't picked one up, and was almost certain Sherlock wouldn't have gotten one.

Sherlock sighed "I'd forgotten. I don't usually do Christmas, I'm not quite...well, I don't know much about the dos and don'ts" he admitted.

Molly smiled at him, "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll think of something." She was about to lay her head back on his chest when-

Ding-dong! "Ho! Ho! Ho!" A voice called from outside.

She shot Sherlock a confused look, "Is that...Noah?"

"Shit!" swore Sherlock, diving for his clothing. He began pulling on his trousers and then looked around "Where's my...?" he looked at Molly "I need my shirt, you know"

Molly couldn't help it she burst out laughing the look onhis face and at the way he was jumping into his trousers, burying her face into the pillow, "Calm down!" She managed to get out. Popping the two buttons she slowly slipped off his shirt leaving her bare to him, hanging it off her finger.

"Molly! Sherlock! Father Christmas has arrived!" Noah called, knocking on the door loudly.

He snatched the shirt, saying "Just a moment!" as he pulled it on, haphazardly doing up the buttons and hissing quietly "Molly! Get dressed! Most people don't like it when they find their sister naked in a room with someone"

She scoffed, "Please, he's a squaddie he's seen a hell of a lot more, one time he found me-" she quickly stopped talking her eyes wide and her face gained a sudden blush. "I mean...oh bloody hell. Just go get the door. I'll get dressed."

Molly got up out of bed and slipped some pajama shorts, quickly getting into a bra she slipped on a vest top and made her way into the kitchen.

Sherlock had let Noah in, and they were both talking in the doorway. Sherlock was smiling, and Noah had a slow grin creeping across his face, as though whatever Sherlock had said made him very happy. Sherlock turned to Molly. "Ah...Molly...I'd like to show you your gift sooner than later. If you don't mind...?"

Her eyes switched from Noah to Sherlock narrowing slightly, "Uh...yeah of course." She said moving over to Noah to greet him with a hug.

"Merry Christmas Mols," he said softly into her ear giving her a kiss on the side of her head.

"Merry Christmas. I'm glad you're here for this one." She gave him one more squeeze before he went and set everything on the table. Molly turned to Sherlock waiting patiently.

He said "Just...just a moment" he headed toward the sitting room, and returned a few moments later. He was holding a slender black cat in his arms, with a bow on its brand new collar.

"I picked him up while you were sleeping. I remembered that he really seemed to like you at Joanne's, and I thought...I mean obviously if you don't want him..." He looked at her, biting his lip, not sure how she would react.

"Oh my god..." Molly whispered in amazement, "Is that…oh my..." moving forward to stand in front of him and the cat he held.

She laughed at the bow on its collar. She stroked the cat's head and it immediately began to purr and as if he recognized Molly it pushed off Sherlock chest. Gently taking the cat from Sherlock it pushed its head under her chin.

"I can't believe... Thank you. He's beautiful, thank you Sherlock." Her eyes where shining with tears but they didn't fall.

He leaned in and kissed her gently, smiling, relieved she had reacted so positively. He smiled "By the way, Happy Christmas Noah!" he called into the kitchen, then looked down at Molly "And Happy Christmas to you"

"Merry Christmas mate!" Came the call back. He'd already gotten the turkey in the oven and on cooking, the vegetables chopped ready to be boiled when it was time and a bottle of beer in his hand. All he needed was the apron.

"I couldn't want anything more Sherlock. This is amazing." She said going him another kiss, looking down at the black cat, "Sweepy." She named grinning up at Sherlock. "...and thank you for bringing him, honestly." she gestured with her head in the direction of the kitchen.

He took her hand, smiling "Anything to make my Molly happy" he said, his voice sincere.

"Why don't I go introduced him to Lyla and you can bond with my brother over cooking?" She winked placing a quick kiss on his lips before padding through to his room.

"Ah...okay?" he said, watching her go, heading toward the kitchen.

He paused in the doorway, looking at Noah, before saying abruptly "Thank you. For...stopping me"

Noah stopped mid swig from the bottle, he looked at Sherlock over the bottle with a raised eyebrow looking very much like Molly without trying, "I did it for Molly." He said firmly, "Not that I don't like you Sherlock cause I do. I think we can get on well. If you had done what you wanted to do, she would have been devastated."

He placed his drink down, getting another bottle out the fridge using the bottle opener, he popped the cap and handed it to Sherlock.

Sherlock looked at him, feeling as though he'd been punched in the stomach as visions ran through his head of if Noah hadn't found him. Would he have managed to resist? Or would he have frozen there in the snow, believing that the only woman he'd ever loved hated him? Or would he have woken up in the gutter, the needle beside him, to come home hooked again, and find Molly waiting for him, waiting to be devastated by the aftermath of what he had done.

He sank into a chair at the kitchen table, feeling slightly sick.

"Get your head out of 'what-if' Sherlock. Don't wallow in what would have happened. Believe me it isn't worth it." Noah gave him a stern look, "If you continue to think like that you'll never get past it. It's done now. Have you seen how happy she is?" He asked pointing a finger towards Sherlock's room. "I was blown up you know, well I say blown up, my convoy hit an IED, took the truck and three of my friends with it. When Molly found out she was in pieces, I didn't know, I was in a coma. I went through months of thinking 'what if I hadn't joined up' would I still be doing what I'm doing now if I'd been sat a couple of inches to the left? You know where that got me? Nowhere." Noah's hand shook as he picked up his bottle again, "It isn't healthy."

Sherlock looked up at him, nodding and straightening his jacket "Yes, you're right. Now...how can I help? Anything else need doing?"

"I have everything covered. It's just a waiting game now with the turkey." Noah scratched the back of his cropped hair, "You...don't mind me turning up like this do you?"

"No, of course not. Christmas is time spent with family, Noah. And...well, you're family." Sherlock offered him a slight smile.

"Well then, Molly!" He hollered, "I've got presents for you!" Giving Sherlock a wry smile, "I even got you a present." He quipped.

Sherlock cocked his head at him, looking surprised. He hadn't thought to get Noah anything, and felt guilt seep through him. He hadn't even known Noah was coming for Christmas. But when Molly entered the room, he couldn't help but smile. She really was just so beautiful.

"Presents? Noah you shouldn't have I didn't... Well actually your present will be in Afghanistan with no one to open it." She said pointing a finger at him.

Noah looked like a scolded child, "Yeah well the lads with open it...so shush. Here." He said, handing Molly a brown paper bag, and spinning around he handed Sherlock a flat envelope.

Sherlock looked at it curiously. He was unused to receiving gifts, and wondered what it was. He could tell instantly that it was some sort of paper, and nothing beyond that occurred to him, so he neatly slit the envelope open and pulled out two day pass tickets to the National Science Museum. His eyes flashed up to Noah, a slow smile appearing on his face. "Molly's told you about me, hasn't she? Thank you" he said, looking extremely pleased.

"She may have said some things about you hijacking her lab to do experiments. I figured you were into science to spend your time there."

"Oh my god!" Molly exclaimed causing both men to look at her, "This is beautiful." Holding up a multi-colored wooly jumper, "I love it thank you Noah-"

"Look at the bottom of the bag,"

Molly's features became confused, digging her hand into the bag pulling out a small rectangle box. She opened it to reveal a shiny but old looking bracelet. Molly's breath caught in her throat, "Noah... Is this?"

"Mum's yeah. I uh, I had it with me in Afghanistan and well, thought you might like to hang onto it. You deserve it."

Sherlock watched, stepping back slightly, allowing them to have a moment as a family.

His eyes scanned Molly's face, taking in her facial expressions and body language. She seemed touched, but there was something he couldn't quite identify beneath it all. He waited for a reaction.

Molly shook her head tears coming down her cheeks, "I can't accept this. Dad left it to you."

Noah moved standing in front of her his thumbs wiping the tears, "I want you to have it. Mum would be so proud of you. Your career, you're becoming what she wanted for you, successful, nice man by your side," he said earning a laugh from his little sister. "Dad bought it for her when she was pregnant with me. She didn't wear it again until she found out she was expecting you." His voice became low, "And since I can't carry little people in me, Molly, I think you should have it."

She was throwing her arms around him in an instant, "When did you get so mushy?"

"It comes with age." He joked, "No crying, it's Christmas! Get a drink down you, old girl!"

"Oi! Less of the old thank you." Molly placed the jumper back into the bag along with the bracelet.

Sherlock had smiled slightly at the "nice man by your side" comment. He was relieved with the way things had turned out, relieved with everything that had happened. He felt a warmth spreading through his chest, and realized that it was real, proper happiness. He was hardly able to bear it. "Excuse me a moment" he said "I need a breath." he noticed Noah eyeing him slightly suspiciously, and did not blame him "I'll be just outside, I promise" he said firmly, and walked out, heading down the stairs and opening the door to stand on the front steps, enjoying the feel of the cold on his skin. It made him feel...alive.

Molly watched Sherlock go, she knew it would get a bit much for him all these emotions flying about she couldn't blame him; he wasn't used to it. Perching herself on a part of the counter that was clear she watch Noah potter about the kitchen, "So any lucky girls on the horizon?"

Noah barked out a laugh, "As a matter of fact yes. Georgia, she lives near the Barracks I'm stationed at. Long distance is never easy but we're trying."

She let out an 'aww', "My big brother is finally growing up!"

"Shut up." He whined starting to blush.

Sherlock came back into the kitchen five minutes later, his cheeks and nosetip slightly pink but otherwise looking quite happily. The flat smelled wonderfully of turkey. He entered the kitchen to find Noah scarlet in the face as Molly teased him. He smiled, watching the brother and sister laugh and talk, as yet unnoticed. He wondered briefly where his and Mycroft's relationship had gone wrong, but shrugged it off.

"Tell her Sherlock, she's being mean." Noah protested sounding like nine year old rather than the mid-thirties man he was.

Molly eased herself off the kitchen side and went to the little radio that was the other side of the kitchen, laughing as she went. Turning it on, the low sound of Christmas songs filled the flat, she turned to Sherlock a small smile on her face, "You okay?"

"Fine" he said, truthfully. He was better than fine. He felt fantastic. He went to stand beside her, and took her hand, tugging it gently "Be nice to your brother, Molly Hooper"

She scowled, "I knew you would take his side, men sticking together." Leaning into Sherlock she kissed him gently, "I love you, you know."

A particular song started on the radio and Noah's low voice began singing along as he fiddled with the pots on the hob, "It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide. I don't have much money but boy if I did, I'd buy a big house where we both could live..." as Noah continued to sing Molly looked at Sherlock and joined in when the chorus came about, their voices blending beautifully.

"...And you can tell everybody, that this is your song," Looking Sherlock straight in the eye, "it may be quite simple but now that it's done...I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words, how wonderful life is, now you're in the world…" She trailed off blushing rapidly.

He was looking at her as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Every time she said something like that, directed at him, it knocked him off balance, but now she was _singing_ and her voice was so beautiful. He pulled her close, kissing her, a sweet, lingering kiss. He tried to put a lot of unsaid things into that kiss, things that he couldn't express verbally, completely forgetting that Noah was there.

Smiling she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Not caring if Noah was watching or not, her love for Sherlock was...vast, and huge and feeling all that shooting back at her with the kiss, his love for her was overwhelming. Breaking away she reached up to wipe a tear from his cheek not sure if he knew it was there or not, "Don't cry Sherlock," she whispered, smiling, "It's Christmas." Quoting her brother's words from earlier.

He smiled, sniffing slight before giving her a brief second kiss, stepping back, and briskly wiping his eyes.

"You two are so sickly sweet!" Noah joked as he was draining the vegetables.

Molly turned and gave him a playful glare, "Shut up."

After dinner, Noah was slouched on the sofa, with an arm over his eyes, "I'm...stuffed."

Molly laughed from her place at the sink drying the last plate before putting it on the draining board, "Well you did have three helpings, greedy bugger."

"I couldn't watch my fine cuisine go to waste!" He exclaimed groaning as he stood to get his coat.

Sherlock laughed, standing to shake Noah's hand. "We were glad to have you for Christmas."

As usual, he had eaten very little, but seemed extremely happy and lighthearted.

Noah nodded and took his hand with a warm smile, "Enjoy the rest of your night."

Molly came and hugged him, "See you soon Noah, thank you for cooking it was delicious."

"Love ya Mols," he winked and kissed her cheek before smiling at Sherlock again, heading for the door making his way downstairs.

Sherlock turned to Molly, a small smile on his face. Alright Molly its...5:30. We've got to be at the event at 8. Can you be ready in an hour?"

Molly rolled her eyes dramatically, "I suppose I could do something to my face in an hour." Placing a light kiss on his lips she wandered off upstairs to get showered and ready.

Sherlock waited patiently for his turn in the shower, and in the meantime laid out the best suit he had, along with a light blue shirt. Now came the tricky part. He opened his closet, and from it pulled a light blue dress, floor-length, sleeveless, with a black sash around the middle. He had noticed Molly looking with interest at a similar dress, and had gone out and painstakingly searched until he found one just like it. While she was in the shower, he laid it across John's former bed, knowing that that was where she'd get ready. Then he went into the bedroom they slept in...and waited.

Taking care on grooming in the shower Molly was singing on the inside, she was so excited. _Dancing with Sherlock Holmes_. The grin on her face had been there since she got in the shower.

Getting out she wrapped herself in one of Sherlock's fluffy towels and wrapped one around her hair. She walked into her room and to the chest-of-drawers picking out some of her fancier underwear. When she turned she froze, where had that come from? Placing her underwear on the bed she held the dress up admiring its beauty. She smiled and continued to get ready, doing her hair and touching her face with make-up before slipping into the dress, to see it fit like a glove.

Sherlock stepped into the shower after he was sure she was in the other room. He washed himself thoroughly, then stepped into the hall in his towel, headed for their room.

Molly was looking at herself in the mirror, smothering down the dressed she turn from side to side appreciating the figure it gave her giving her hair another poof she walked out of John's room, swallowing slightly, the nervous butterflies in her stomach once again.

Sherlock dried himself off, and dressed, his blue shirt matching his eyes as well as Molly's dress. He left the room and went into the hall, just in time to see the hem of Molly's dress swish around the corner. "Molly?" he called, turning the corner.

Spinning around she stopped, playing with her dress she smiled. Her eyes flitted over his suit and her mouth went dry, how can one man make a suit look that good? "Hello," she said softly.

He froze. He knew what the dress looked like, and knew she'd look beautiful in it, but he still felt rather stunned looking at her. "You look...Molly..." he found himself struggling for words as he never had before, unable to articulate his emotions.

If his face was anything to go by, she looked like a sex goddess right now, "You...like it then?" She asked grinning, giving him a little twirl.

"You look fantastic" he managed, crossing the room and cupping her face in his hands. "Lovely, beautiful. Molly...oh God" he kissed her, a soft kiss, pulling back and saying "Alright...that took a bit longer than expected, so we'd best be off." he handed her her coat, and grabbed his own, pulling it on. "I'm afraid it's a bit of a drive...an hour. We can just make it in time if we catch a cab now."

Putting on her coat she nodded and followed him out of 221B.


	35. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

_During the slow dance, the song that is playing is called "Wonder" by Lauren Aquilina_

_During the fast dance, the song that is playing is called "Sway" by Michael Buble_

"Are you sure we'll make it?" Molly asked, looking up and down the street, nudging Sherlock when she saw a cab driving with the light on.

He hailed the taxi, holding open the door for her as always "We can afford to be a few minutes late, I expect the dance floor will be open all evening. It's supposed to be very swanky, Scotland yard higher ups threw it and I called in some favors to get us on the list. It's in the Corinthia Hotel."

"Scotland Yard?" She asked puzzled, "Sherlock are we crashing a police party?" she giggled at the thought.

"No, well...I may or may not have called in a few favors, made a few deductions, threatened to expose an affair." He smirked, looking pleased with himself.

Shaking her head affectionately at him she put her arm through his, "Thank you. For-you know, this, the dancing and the dress."

"Of course" he said, squeezing her hand "You deserve it" He suddenly looked as though he wanted to say something, hesitated, then closed his mouth.

"What?" Molly turned his head with a finger on his chin, "You were going to say something, what was it?"

"Molly...when we spoke of children last night..." he hesitated, a look of deep concentration on his face.

Molly's face fell, "Have…have you changed your mind?" Her voice barely above a whisper.

"No!" he said at once, his voice ringing with sincerity. "I just...I can't seem to get it out of my head" he looked at her with something akin to excitement sparking in his eyes "I can't stop thinking about..." he trailed off, not sure how many of his thoughts he should actually put into words. He had quite a few.

Relief flooded her and she turned to Sherlock slightly as much as the dress would allow, "Are you...excited?" a grin growing on her face, "What are you thinking, tell me..."

"All of it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. All of it." Confirming with a nod.

He took a deep breath, and then began to deliver each thought as it came to him, "I keep thinking about that first day we realize that you're expecting our first child, that first visit to the doctor, that first ultrasound. I keep thinking about telling Mrs. Hudson and informing John and Mary that soon their child will have a playmate, I keep thinking of shopping for baby clothes like the one you got for John's infant, I keep thinking about rocking chairs and a house outside the city and first steps and first words and taking pictures and letting him or her crawl into bed with us when he or she has had a bad dream, I keep thinking about telling the child bedtime stories and listening to knock knock jokes and Mycroft's reaction and Joanne's reaction when I say "Look at what I have, look at what we have, this perfect family with a beautiful child" and Molly I can hardly bear all these thoughts, I feel that I might explode with happiness as they run through my mind! Molly I look to the future frequently, I have all my life, but never before have I longed for the future long before its time." he bit his lip, looking at her, realizing he'd just unloaded most of his thoughts onto her all at once.

Molly stared at him taking in every word he said, every thought, every feeling as it came out of his mouth at lightning speed. "You...baby clothes...telling people, ultra sounds..." She trailed off blinking once, "Sherlock, I-" Not bothering to form a coherent she flung herself at him crushing her lips to his, trying to tell him she felt the same, her heart always skips a beat every time she pictures Sherlock holding their new born, or watching him change a onesie or even curling up with the baby on the sofa watching meaningless telly. She gripped his cheek, breaking apart from the kiss breathing quickly "Everything...everything you just said, was beautiful and... I feel the same. I can't wait. I truly can't. I can't wait to see the big flop of dark curls on top of their head or to see a mini cupids bow like yours, if they have your eyes…I could get lost in them."

He looked slightly surprised at the kiss, but smiled, seeming breathless, as she spoke. He kissed her again, gently, lightly. "Molly, are we being silly? Getting so ahead of ourselves, I mean?" he began to answer his own question "It doesn't feel silly to me, even though we've been together...what, almost three weeks...we knew each other so long before that. It seems...real to me, this relationship. It has more substance and moves much faster than other people's relationships. But still...I think its right for us, it feels right to me..."

She nodded vigorously, "Not silly, at all. People may think we are but then, we aren't like most people. I don't want to rush anything but when it feels this right?" Smiling she took his hand, "I'm not sure how to go about it, I mean, I know I want a child, you know...but do we wait? Wait for it to happen naturally?"

"I don't know..." he hesitated, looking as though he was thinking something over, before looking back up at her and saying "Let's talk after New Years alright? Give us both time to think, not that I'm going to change my mind. I just want us to have thoroughly thought this over beforehand. I think our relationship has been full of ups and downs, but I don't think there's anything we can't get past"

"Okay, yeah," Giving him a peck, "sounds like a plan." She settled back in her seat when her eyebrows shot up, "Sherlock, did we just...discuss having children in the back of a cab on the way to crash a Scotland Yard party?"

He looked at her, a smile curving his lips "I believe we did, Miss Hooper. Is that a problem?"

"No, no, not at all. It just proves we aren't like most couples." She laughed, "I wouldn't have this any other way Sherlock. I love you."

The cab pulled up to the front entrance, where a few people were getting out of their respective vehicles, headed up the steps of the Corinthia Hotel. Sherlock opened the door for her, taking her hand and helping her out. He smiled at her. Several people turned and stared openly.

Ever since the fall, Sherlock Holmes was nearly a household name and face, and his attitude toward displaying affection or even emotion in public was legendary. Yet here he was, holding the hand of a woman, a beautiful petite woman with a sweet, nervous smile.

Molly placed a smile on her face for the onlookers and shifted her gaze to Sherlock, "Ignore them.." She said softly. Molly took in the huge hotel that was towering over them. It had a grand entrance, filled with a huge Christmas tree and other festive decorations along with lights going around the clear door windows. Letting out an appreciative whistle, "The place is...huge."

He grinned "I know" Men in neat black vests with white shirts opened the double doors for them, and they stepped inside together. In the corner, a band was playing various songs, some fast, others slow. Various couples were laughing and dancing on the floor. Several Scotland Yard officers recognized Sherlock and stared openly. His face had become reserved, looking more like his old self. Then he caught sight of Molly out of the corner of his eye, and felt an irresistible smile spread across his face.

Molly placed her arm through his, resting her hand on his forearm as they walked into the main room. She was in awe of the size of the hall, floor to ceiling windows and curtains, it was like something out a 20's film. The bar staff were neatly dressed, wearing the same vest a shirts as the doormen. Looking around her gaze caught Sherlock and she shot him a reassuring smile, "Drink?"

"Sure" he said with a smile, steering her through the crowd and toward the swanky bar.

Molly turned leaning back against the bar, to look out at the vastness of the hall, looking around through the crowd she noticed a few police officers who she knew, most of which were staying clear of her. She could only assume it was because she was with Sherlock. She turned again and rubbed a hand up Sherlock's back, feeling it was very stiff, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I just recognized more people than I thought" he said, sipping at his drink, looking mildly surprised. "I'm fine, Molly, honestly, I just wasn't expecting to know this many people. They all clearly remember me" he said with an amused snort.

Tasting her drink giving it shock looked, he knew what she wanted, she shouldn't be surprised but she is, looking up at the man in front of her she said, "Of course they will remember you. You've either deduced the hell out of them or helped them in some way Sherlock."

He chuckled, watching people revolve on the dance floor or move about. Suddenly he went very still. A man was approaching them, a tall clean shaven man in a neat tux. He looked very dapper, and was headed directly toward them. Sherlock watched him, looking a little...surprised.

Molly was otherwise occupied, still gazing around the room, big room like this had always fascinated her the way they were built all those years ago. Someone had come up with the design for this, in their own little head, she let out a little giggle before turning her eyes back to Sherlock, seeing a man in front of him. Sherlock meanwhile looked very, well he looked stunned to say the least.

"Sherlock Holmes" said the man, extending a hand. Sherlock took it, and shook.

"Jack?" he said in a low voice, his eyes scanning the man's face.

"The very same" replied the man.

"I take it you're doing well, to be here" said Sherlock. "You look very good Jack, have you kept yourself..."

The other man nodded "5 years, and all thanks to you. After I left the Network, I got back on my feet, got a job, got a flat, met someone. She's wonderful. It's all thanks to you, Sherlock."

They shook hands again, and the man clapped him on the shoulder and walked off, tipping Molly a wink as he went.

Molly followed his back with her eyes, raising an eyebrow. Well, she thought, who does he think he is? "Who was that Sherlock?" Sipping her drink she turned to him with a curious look.

"Well..." he turned to Molly, hesitating "The way I started my homeless network was because I passed out once...and a couple of them saved my life. I would've frozen to death if it weren't for them. I started talking to them more, and Jack there..." he indicated the direction the man had gone "got me to an Addiction group. I don't think they liked me very much, to be honest, but it...helped. A lot. When I stopped using, and Jack was still having trouble, I helped him out a bit. Gave him some money, helped him get clean. But one day he just vanished...I figured he'd started using again, so I used the network, but nobody could find him. I thought the worst until...now. I hardly recognized him."

Molly was looking at Jack as Sherlock spoke, he was stood with another man not so far away. Suddenly Molly put down her drink and walked over to him, weaving in and out of other guests.

Tapping him on the shoulder, "Hello, you don't know me but I would like to say thank you, for...helping Sherlock." Reaching up she gave him a polite hug, smiling at him, she walked back to Sherlock.

Jack watched her go, looking vaguely surprised.

Sherlock looked bemused "What was that about?" he asked with a slight smile.

Molly picked up her drink taking a gulp before smiling at Sherlock, "I...well I thanked him. For helping you all those years ago."

He smiled at her, leaning down and kissing her gently. He paused as a new song started, and said quietly "Ah, yes...this is the one I was waiting for. Are you ready Molly?"

Grinning nervously she nodded and took his outstretched hand, "Lead the way Mister Holmes."

The song played softly, the singer moving up to the mic, the piano playing along with him. It was a slow song, so it didn't take much effort to dance to, but he had requested this song. He knew they'd start playing fast music a bit later, when more people were tipsier and therefore more likely to dance.

Sherlock pulled her to the middle of the dance floor, tugging her into his arms, taking her hand and securing his over to her waist. He revolved on the spot with her. This particular song didn't require much movement, just a gently swaying. Couples around them were doing the same, but Sherlock felt sure that nobody in that entire room loved anyone as much as he loved the woman in his arms.

Molly relaxed into his touched as they circled on the spot, the more the song went on the more she listened to the lyrics. Closing her eyes she rested her head gently on his chest. The song in a word was beautiful, the singer had a wonderful voice and the piano accompanying them was...beautiful but the song it just _fit_. Molly looked up at Sherlock, love, trust, passion all shining in her eyes. She reached up with the hand that was on his shoulder and cupped his cheek, kissing him. Except it wasn't like all the other kisses they had shared, this one was different somehow. She poured every emotion she was feeling right there at that moment showing him how much this meant to her and how much he meant to her. It felt as if now it was official. They could actually start being a couple, they had started off rocky but now nothing could stop them. They were a duo but became one at the same time.

"I love you, I do, so much." She said with a smile playing at her lips, her voice breaking slightly

"I love you too" he whispered, his eyes glazed with happy tears.

As they danced, as the song went on, he could feel himself being swept away, could feel every breath she took, every beat of her heart. He looked down at the woman he loved and knew that the decision he had made, the one he had told John about, was the right one.

As the song came to an end, he wondered what the future held for them. Would it be all they wanted? All SHE wanted? 'Yes' he thought to himself 'It will be everything we've ever hoped for and more.'

As they came to a stop, she said in an amused tone, "You have a sneaky romantic side to you Sherlock Holmes." Laughing a little, she took his hand and lead them back to the bar standing in front of him she ordered a repeat of their drinks. She pulled his hands around her and leant her back into his chest as they waited for their refreshments.

He grinned at her, turning faintly pink. "Just wait til I actually get to show you what I learned" he smirked at her, looking cocky

Molly grinned with him as she started to sway her hips sensually, along with the slow music. It showed that she was a skilled dancer, having taken lessons as a child and been in several dance competitions through her teenage years, she knew her way around the floor. She bit her lip and tilted her head to look back at him, "Foxtrot? Samba? Tango?" She asked playfully, still swaying her hips pressing them back into him.

"Ah...um..." It was as though he'd lost his ability to speak. He cleared his throat and managed to say "I'm quite adept at all of it. I'm a quick learner"

Molly hummed appreciatively into his ear, "I know you are." Her warmed breath ghosted over the side of his face with one last sway of her hips against him she shot away to collect their drinks a smug look taking to her features as she glanced back seeing the look on his face.

He watched her go, feeling completely incapable of speech. He sighed quietly, waiting for her to return. His chest felt slightly tight just thinking about dancing with her. He knew that he had excelled at dancing, and was looking forward to a fast song, but still he felt distinctly nervous.

Molly walked back to him moment later and cocked an eyebrow, "You look like you could use that." She said handing him his drink, "Is...everything okay?" Maybe flirting with him in public wasn't the best idea, he did look flushed but he had that nervous edge about him. Part of Molly was quite proud of herself, having that effect on him.

"I'm just very tempted to go have a quick shag in the unisex bathroom" he said in a low, husky voice in her ear, surprised at his own daring, checking the effect on her with a smirk, sipping his drink.

Her glass had stopped mid-way to her mouth and her eyes went wide. Molly was positive she hadn't heard him right, she couldn't have, Sherlock offering sex in a bathroom? Switching her gaze to his face the look on it was all she needed in confirming she had heard correctly, using his confidence and the fact that two quite large glasses of expensive champagne had gone down a treat she leaned up to his ear, he body pressing up the side of him, "Hmmm…so tempting Mr. Holmes…" Biting her lip she took another long swig of her drink.

He opened his mouth, looking slightly stunned at her response. He cleared his throat, making sure none had overheard. He wasn't sure how to respond, but suddenly a new song was struck up. He looked up, and leaned forward, growling in her ear "Later." He stood tall "For now... let's dance" he tugged her hand, leaving his drink half finished. It was a very fast song, and he turned to her when they reached the middle of the floor.

Pleased she'd won a new found confidence hit Molly she didn't know whether it was the alcohol or where they were, it could be that Sherlock makes her feel...sexy, whatever it was it was working she didn't feel as shy anymore. She couldn't help but giggle when Sherlock spun her to a stop. Molly registered the type of dance you'd have to do to this song she looked at him shocked, "You know how?"

He smirked at her as the music began. And then he started dancing with her, and the lessons kicked in immediately as they moved rapidly across the floor, one moment close, the next she was spinning away. It was effortless and easy and he found himself enjoying it immensely.

Molly couldn't stop grinning, he really /had/ taken lessons. He was moving her with fluidity, placing his feet and hands in all the right places. Molly started to add in her own moves she knew this song inside and out, soon the song's 'beat stop' came and she dipped low, using his hands to pull her up again her body mere inches from his. Before starting to move again. It was like a game of tease, one moment pressed together the next their finger tips could barely touch.

As the song progressed, people began to notice. They backed up, giving the pair room. Sherlock had a broad smile on his face, and as the song ended he pulled her flush against him, their faces an inch apart. Everyone began applauding at once. Breathing hard, Sherlock looked around, registering that they had an audience.

Molly was laughing, not caring about the people around her, trying to catch her breath she took a deep breath. Both of their chests where moving up and down at quite some speed. She could feel his hand low on her back just above her backside, while one of hers was at the back of his head and the other on his shoulder.

"That was...I can't believe we just did that. I haven't done that dance in, well since I was fifteen!" She exclaimed looking at him with a bright smile.

He grinned broadly at her, breathing heavily. "Come on" he said, taking her hand and weaving past people to get to the edge of the crowd.

She ran a hand through her giving it the swept look. "That was so much fun!"

They came to a stop at the edge of the dance floor. She turned to look at the other couples filling the circle they had formed for Sherlock and herself. Molly wondered how they must've looked, she felt so alive when they were dancing and it wasn't an innocent type of dance. A grin came to her face as she thought about the way he held her and moved her about while they were dancing.

He looked at her, grinning broadly. He felt slightly flushed, but he felt a surge of daring fill him. He leaned forward and said in a low voice into her ear "Let's skip the bathroom. But as soon as we get home..." he trailed off, standing up straight, his eyes looking almost predatory.

She swallowed her throat suddenly dry, she could have sworn she even _felt _her pupils dilate. Nodding mutely she looked him up and down moving over the way his suit trousers fit him perfectly, to his arm, knowing what muscles lay underneath... "It'll be worth the wait," she murmured back to him, licking her lips.

He laughed easily, kissing her tantalizingly, lightly, giving her very little, before saying "Are you having fun?"

Molly still had her eyes closed, wanting more of the kiss, "Mmm, you bet." She said slowly. Popping her eyes open she gave him a grin, "I love it, thank you."

"Of course" he said, sensing she wanted more but refusing to give it. He looked up, scanning the room. More than one person had shot them a curious look as they passed.

Molly pouted slightly when he turned his head instead of giving her a kiss. "People have been watching us all evening Sherlock. Our little duet on the dance floor certainly caught everyone's attention." She said spinning around to walk to the bar.

He followed after her, smiling "Well, I think people are wondering what kind of woman could've bewitched Sherlock Holmes" he said teasingly.

Molly brushed it off though she looked mildly proud, "I think they're all jealous, the ladies in particular. I have the most handsome..." she stopped and turned to him as she reached the bar, putting her arms around his waist, "…the most sexy, intelligent man in the room, who isn't a half bad dancer either." She said, giving him a wink.

He grinned at her, feeling the power of the champagne increase his daring "Hm, Miss Hooper, you are quite the flirt tonight. Better be careful, you might catch some other man's eye, and we can't be having that, can we?" he leaned very close, and was about to whisper something that would've undoubtedly been very dirty when a startled voice came from behind him. "Sherlock?!"


	36. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Sherlock looked up, looking very cross indeed, his expression clearing as he saw who it was "Ah, Lestrade, I didn't know you were coming..."

Molly had nearly gone weak at the knees with the look he gave her, jumping slightly when Sherlock's name was called. She bit back a laugh at the pissed off look that took over his face. Leaning forward to Sherlock's ear she whispered, "It's a Scotland Yard party, and a free bar, where else would he be." She trailed off with a giggle as she waved to Greg, moving around Sherlock to give the Inspector a warm hug, "Lovely to see you Greg."

He hugged her back "Molly! Glad to see you both here. Now listen..." he said, looking at them both "Some blokes were just telling me that there was a couple dancing, and that they were...well very good. That wasn't...?"

Sherlock smirked.

Molly's face lit up at the mention of her and Sherlock dancing but tried to hide it, "Greg, could you imagine Sherlock on a dance floor?" She teased and let out a fake scoff.

"Well know, and that's why I bet them ten quid it wasn't you. Am I about to lose my money?" he asked, looking uneasy.

"…Just a bit. Well yes." answered Sherlock, still smirking, looking very pleased with himself.

Molly winced slightly feeling bad for him losing his money, "Sorry. Guilty as charged." She laughed looking between Sherlock and Greg, "Speaking of dancing," she heard a relatively slow song start, "would you like a spin Greg?" She asked hesitantly, worried if Sherlock took it the wrong way.

Sherlock's eyes snapped to Molly, slightly surprised and a little offended before he mentally calmed himself. He knew intellectually that Molly and Greg were just friends. It was this "boyfriend" thing, getting him all jealous. But he shook it off, knowing it wasn't such an awful thing and that it would make Molly happy.

Greg looked at Sherlock for a moment, then turned to Molly. "Of course"

Before leaving with Greg she turned and grabbed Sherlock's lapel lightly bringing him down to her mouth where she kissed him with some force, a promise of what was to come later, "One dance," she mumbled to him, "then I'm all yours."

He smiled "Yes Miss Hooper" he said, watching her go, feeling reassured.

Greg pulled her in to dance, without invading her space too much. It was a comfortable, friendly dance. Lestrade stayed silent, knowing she had something to say. She wouldn't have asked for a dance, outside of where Sherlock could hear, if she didn't.

Molly looked to Greg as an older brother, she's known him years before Sherlock. She had been friends with him over ten years now, working with him, helping with evidence of cases. She was the shoulder he cried on when him and his ex-wife were divorcing...all three times.

"Greg, can I...seek your advice about something?" She asked, looking slightly hesitant.

"Of course Molly" he looked down at her, seeming mildly surprised. He wondered briefly what Sherlock was thinking, and was very careful to keep his hands on her back and shoulder, no lower, no higher. He loved her like a sister, it had always been that way. Lestrade was curious, however. He had seen the change that had come over Sherlock, a miraculous change, and now he seemed so...human. He wondered what Sherlock was like in a relationship.

"You can't tell _anyone_ and I mean it Greg, if you do I know at least a dozen ways to poison you without leaving any evidence." She warned with a stern face. When she saw he wasn't going to blab, she took a deep breath, "Me and Sherlock...we've been thinking and speaking and well, we've talked about having a child. In the near future, not right now but in the New Year..." She rushed in a quiet tone so only he could hear. Molly wasn't worried about the idea anymore, not after what she and Sherlock had confessed in the cab on the way here. She just needed reassurance from her adopted big brother, assurance that she, or Sherlock weren't being stupid.

"A...what?" Lestrade could not have looked more shocked. It took all his willpower to not turn and look at Sherlock. "A baby? Molly..." he hesitated, then decided to speak his mind now, rather than waiting til later and letting this situation bite him on the arse. "Molly, you've been dating for...three weeks. Now I know a relationship with Sherlock must be very different but...why so fast? I'm not asking because I think you can't do it, no I'm sure you're up to the job. But..." he cleared his throat "It's very quick, and...Sherlock as a father? Has he changed that much, Molly? I really am asking...not trying to be a prat or anything, but...these are the questions you need to ask yourself."

"Honestly?" Molly looked up at him, "It _feels _right. I can't explain it, yes we've not been together even a full month but it seems _so_ much longer than that. I know that we didn't get off to the best with what...happened." She stopped for a moment as Greg twirled her trying to keep the dance nonchalant for Sherlock's sake, "You should hear him Greg, the way he talks about having a baby, the way his eyes light up. It's like that person was always in him, always been there, hiding it just took...me to get it to come out." She admitted, blushing, "I asked you because you've always been there. And I've always respected you and love you, I just need someone to tell me that this isn't delusional. Please…" She whispered, she knew the song would be ending in the matter of a minute.

"Look, Molly..." he began, and he practically saw her heart break. He shook his head as though clearing it and said "Mols, we've known each other over ten years, and I'll tell you something: I have never seen you happier then when you are with Sherlock Holmes, and I have never seen a man more in love. The way he looks at you Molly, it's..." he searched for a word to describe it, but found none. "If this feels right to you Molly, then please by all means go for it, you'd be a lovely mum and if Sherlock really is like that then it sounds like he'd be a good dad. But this is unconventional to say the least. You may need to be prepared for some...comments. You're going back to work on the fourth of January, yes? Well I wouldn't spread round the news that you and Sherlock are planning on having kids. Molly, I'll stick by you, I promise. But you might get some judgment, and...There's always the idea of marriage to consider. Have you even thought about it, talked about it? Molly, I'm not exactly an expert on marriage as you know, but I know enough to say that its important, and it's _really _important when you're talking about kids." He smiled at her as the song ended "You have my full support, Molly, and no matter what you decide, I'll be right there for you if you need me. Alright? But if this is what makes you happy, and you're sure...then go for it."

Molly chose not to comment on the marriage part, she didn't really know they hadn't discussed that...they'd jumped straight ahead to babies, she would have laughed at the thought if it hadn't been such a serious and touching moment between her and Greg, "I have never been surer. I couldn't care what people say at work, they judged me for helping Sherlock fake his death I got through that." Molly gave him a hug, "Thank-you, I mean it, thank-you. You always give the best advice Greg." Pulling away she kissed his cheek, "Come one let's get back I bet he's wearing a hole in the carpet."


	37. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Lestrade snorted as they headed back to Sherlock, who was lounging against the bar, sipping his third glass of champagne. He eyed them as they came back "Everything alright?" he asked, noting that Molly was slightly pink and Greg was avoiding his eye.

"Splendid," Molly said kissing his cheek, turning to Greg she gave him a thankful look and said, "Say 'hiya' to the girls for me won't you?"

Greg nodded, shook hands with Sherlock, and walked off, disappearing into the crowd.

Sherlock smiled at her, feeling a nagging sense of curiosity but not allowing it to show on his face, keeping his shoulders relaxed "Molly." he said her name quietly, simply, kissing her there beside the bar.

Molly hummed when he kissed her. "Sherlock." She said back to him a smile toying at her lips.

"Shall we get out of here?" he asked. They'd been there several hours, and it was getting late.

She smirked and leaned into him, kissing her way up his jaw she met his lips, "If you insist Mister Holmes."

He grinned, taking her by the hand. They walked together out of the hotel, pulling on their coats. He waved down a taxi, and as they got in, he said "How's Lestrade doing?"

Molly stiffened slightly, she should have known he would bring up her conversation with Lestrade. She was torn between telling him what was said and avoiding the conversation. She didn't know how he will react to her divulging such sensitive information but on the other hand, it was Greg, the man who is practically her brother. "He's good, doing good." Giving him a smile she stared at the back of the passenger seat.

"Good" said Sherlock in a short, simple response. His curiosity built, but he forced it back. She didn't want to talk about it, and he wouldn't invade her privacy. He reached across the seat, taking her hand and pressing his lips to it. He gazed out the window, his mind running through a hundred thoughts a second.

"You can't bear it can you?" She asked softy, tugging on his hand.

He shook his head noncommittally "Molly, you don't have to tell me everything. It doesn't matter" he said gently.

"It does matter though doesn't it? It's been bothering you since I asked Greg to dance." She countered, looking at him intently.

"No." he said "Molly listen to me. I don't mind that you don't tell me things. I like knowing things, yes, and if it is relevant to our relationship, if it's something I can fix or work on, then I'd like to know. But otherwise, honestly Molly, don't worry about it"

"I told him that we were thinking of trying for a child." She revealed, looking down at their joined hands.

He looked sharply up at her, cocking his head "Why?" he asked, his voice not giving away any emotion he might've been feeling.

She closed her eyes, she knew it was a bad idea. "I needed reassurance, other than from you. I needed to know that what we decided wasn't stupid or silly or delusional. So I turned to Greg. One of my oldest friend's, he's basically my brother. We've always been there for each to give and receive advice." She looked straight at him, "I need you to know that I didn't go to Greg in doubt. I just- I need to talk to someone about it. To say it to someone actually say it."

He nodded, looking stiff and rigid as he always did when he was concentrating on something enigmatic. He looked back at her. He didn't look angry at all, but said questioningly "You're sure you weren't asking because you had doubts?"

"I'm sure Sherlock. If I had any doubts _you_ would be my first point of call." Molly looked at him for a few moments his whole posture had changed, stiff, straight. She shook her head and looked out the window feeling that talking to Greg was a big mistake.

He paused, continuing to think. "Molly...what do you think of marriage?" the question was thrown out very abruptly.

Molly tried to calm her breathing, 'he isn't asking' was the mantra in her head. "I-uh… with the right person marriage can be a wonderful thing." She said quietly, still looking out the window.

"Interesting" he said mildly, going quiet.

'Interesting'? Molly mouthed to herself. She couldn't think about one thing, it was all babies and marriages and white dresses that kept popping into her mind. Molly mentally shook herself. 'Later Molly, later.' She told herself. Before she knew it they were pulling up outside 221B.

He paid the cabbie, turning to see her already out of the cab. He took her hand, kissing her reassuringly, seeing the worry on her face.

Waiting for him to unlock 221, they both headed upstairs, her mind was still reeling with thoughts and images. Remembering they still had the wine from Christmas Dinner she decided she needed a drink. "I'm going to get that wine out the fridge, want a glass?" Turning around to face him once they got into the flat, she ran a hand up his chest keeping it just above his heart.

He smiled down at her "I'm alright, I've already had several glasses of champagne and I think I should leave it there."

Molly bobbed her head giving him a peck, "Suit yourself," she slipped her coat off and placed on the back of a chair at the dining table. Grabbing the wine she reached into the cupboard and got a glass out before flopping down onto the sofa. Patting the space beside her she poured herself a drink.

"Just a moment" he said, leaning down and giving her a quick kiss. "I'll be back in a second"

He walked back into their bedroom, opening a drawer and rifling through it until he found what he was looking for. Keeping the item in the drawer, he checked it over, before restoring it to the place he knew Molly would not look nor find it.

Careful not to rip her dress Molly pulled her legs under herself, sipping her drink quickly, she looked over the smaller presents under the tree. They could wait until tomorrow. The flat still smelled of turkey and Christmas dinner, she looked at the various decoration scattering the living room. Everything had changed fast and for the better. Pouring herself another glass she realized just how quick she'd drunk her wine.

She turned and smiled at Sherlock as he came back in the room.

He looked at her, noting the slightly vacant look in her eyes and the red blotches on her cheeks "Molly..." he said sternly "Have you gotten a bit drunk?"

A silly smile came to her face as she looked from her second glass within two minutes, and the bottle a bit confused, "Uhh...no." She said slightly embarrassed.

He sat on the couch beside her, leaning across to kiss her.

"I haven't had a decent drink in years. I think I deserve it." She said sitting up straighter acting proud before bursting out laughing, "Sorry, I may be a bit tipsy." She admitted taking another sip of her wine.

He smirked. "Well, then I suppose our earlier plans are out" he sat, sitting back, eyeing her craftily "I couldn't possibly take advantage of a tipsy woman."

Molly quickly placed her glass and bottle down on the floor moving to straddle his lap in one smooth motion, her dress making it harder but she pulled it up a bit giving her more leg space, "I'm not_ that_ drunk Sherlock." She murmured matching his smirk.

His expression had changed at once, becoming feral, hungry. The look in his eyes would have been almost frightening if it wasn't so attractive. He tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her down for a rough kiss.

She moaned into the kiss running her hands through his hair using it to pull his head back looking smug. Her face was flushed even more now, the alcohol slowly working its way through her system, her lips swollen from the kiss, "Well, you soon changed your tune." She grinned suggestively and gave him a wink before climbing off him slowly, making her way to the door.

He jumped up, following her, grabbing her and pulling her flush against him "And where do you think you're going?" he asked, his lips finding their way to her neck.

Molly's head fell back making contact with the wall, how had they gotten there? She was near the kitchen door, now she was pressed against the wall, one of her hands shot to the back of his head, "I was...going to bed. Care to join me?" She asked breathlessly into his ear.

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes darker than usual, and in answer he kissed her, hard and fierce, before gripping her hand and tugging her toward the bedroom.

Giggling as she went she yelped as he picked her and plonked her on the bed she yanked him down on top of her.

It was frantic, passionate and heated but filled with love and promises. She felt alive once again as they moved together, perfectly in tune, in sync, and in love.


	38. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Afterward, Sherlock pulled her close to him, breathing hard and kissing her forehead "Miss Hooper, you out do yourself with each new experience."

Her chest was heaving as she laid on his chest, panting she grinned up at him and kissed him deeply, "And we have many more to come Mister Holmes." She said laughing. Stifling a yawn she looked at the clocked 1:40 am, turning back to him "Christmas is over. Did you have fun?" Kissing his chest she laid her head down listening to his heartbeat.

"I did" he said, managing to catch his breath "And now it's only a few days before a whole new year." he commented, running his fingers gently through her hair.

Nodding against his chest, "I can't wait." She mumbled in a grin, "We are going to have a proper talk though." Her voice taking a serious tone, "About everything. No interruptions," she looked up at him, "I love you, and I want to be with you. I want everything with you and if that makes us crazy then so be it. I don't care what people think." Muttering the last part in slight anger.

"Who said what people think matters?" he asked, rubbing her back soothingly with his palm "It doesn't matter, as long as we're happy. You know that, Molly."

"I just-" sighing, she receded, "You're right, you're right." Reaching up to kiss him gently she snuggled into him, "Night Sherlock."

Day later…

It was New Year's Eve, and Sherlock was nervous. All his plans for the past week had led up to this, and he felt himself shake lightly. He felt in the inside pocket of his suit jacket to make sure it was still there, reassured by the lump. He took a deep breath, and turned to the flat.

Mary and John were in on it. Mary had taken Molly out for a girl's night, while John was standing by to call Sherlock the moment they were close to home. The flat was unrecognizable in its cleanliness. The TV set was on, and they'd be ringing in the New Year in 15 minutes. A moment later, his phone dinged. A text from John.

_They're on their way._

Sherlock took a long, deep breath, waiting a little impatiently, until he heard the door open downstairs, and the sound of Mary calling farewell to Molly.

Molly was feeling the buzz her night with Mary had been amazing, it wasn't spent with longing look at her ever growing bump, she'd revealed to Mary that her and Sherlock had 'talked' but said nothing more. The feeling of New Year around them out in London everyone cheery and having a wonderful time.

She walked upstairs and into the living room singing softly to herself, not noticing Sherlock stood by the fireplace, she hung up her coat, spinning around she called "Sherlock! I'm-" Whoa, the flat was...clean, very clean. Gazing over the room her eyes landed on Sherlock, "What's...did you do all this?"

"Yes, I just thought it'd be nice if the flat were clean for once" he said evasively "Now, I know it'll be a bit cold, but don't take your coat off alright? We're going up to the roof." he grabbed a wireless radio off the side table and smile, taking her hand and tugging her outside, crossing the street to the building opposite, leading her to a set of steps on the side of the building.

Reaching the roof she looked up, the sky was clear apart from the few strobe lights to be seen coming from downtown London.

"Sherlock why are we up here? They're going to be starting the countdown soon, don't you want to..." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

"No. Trust me this is a much better spot." he set up the radio, and flicked it on. It was already on the proper channel.

_Thirty seconds to midnight folks, and wasn't 2013 a hell of a year? Coming to you live from London, where the celebrations are jubilant and the world is about to enter a brand new year, a new opportunity for a new life to begin. Alright, here we go..._

_**10**_

"Molly, I have to say something to you"

_**9**_

"These past three weeks have been...they've meant everything to me"

_**8**_

"I don't know where I would be if you weren't in my life."

**7**

Molly began to get nervous a whole new year to look forward to.

**6**

She stepped closer to Sherlock as he continued to speak, his voice was low but he could still be over heard by the millions of other voices and noise around London.

_**5**_

"Molly, I love you more then I'd ever thought I could love."

_**4**_

"Sometimes I can hardly breathe just looking at you, I love you so much Molly"

_**3**_

"And if you let me..."

_**2**_

"I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way."

_**1**_

_**HAPPY NEW YEAR!**_

Fireworks exploded in the night sky over downtown London.

And there, in front of Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes did something completely unexpected. He sank down on one knee.

And from an inside jacket pocket, he withdrew a small black box, opening it to reveal a ring. It was not traditional. It was silver, with blue and white gemstones set into the bands, which wound together.

"I don't care that we've only been together less than a month, because it feels like I've known you forever, it feels like my whole life has been leading up to knowing you. Molly, I love you. Will you...will you marry me?"


	39. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Molly had hand over her mouth in an instant, she couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, her mind wasn't working. She stared at him, the man she loved, down on bended knee, looking up at her with such openness. Her eyes were flickering from the ring to Sherlock's face for a solid twenty seconds.

"Sher-" Molly couldn't even get the words out, "Oh my God," she breathed, "Yes..." Whispering, hoping he'd heard her.

He took her hand, and slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. He stood, his eyes glazed his happy tears, and he kissed her, there on the roof, fireworks bursting in the sky, cheers and shouts in the streets as a New Year began, and never in his life had Sherlock Holmes been as happy as he was right then.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she watch him slide the ring on her finger, making it all the more real. Responding to his kiss she deepened it, she was shaking with excitement she felt she would almost burst with happiness, running her hands up to his shoulders she pulled back, "Happy New Year Sherlock."

"Happy New Year Molly" he said softly, brushing her tears away. He stood there for a moment with her, and then pulled her into a hug, unable to believe she'd said yes, knowing this would seem insane to anyone else and absolutely NOT CARING because he loved her and nothing was ever going to change that. After a few moments he said quietly "Let's get out of the cold" with a light laugh.

Smiling she nodded and stopped him moving out of her arms with a kiss, before turning and grabbing the radio, which was now playing Auld Lang Syne "I've always loved this song." She commented as she started to descend the steps.

He followed behind her, feeling jubilant "It's a new year Miss Hooper. A new beginning" he opened the door to the flat. His phone was vibrating on the table where he had left it as people texted him "Happy New Year". Rolling his eyes, he turned to Molly, a small smile on his face.

She came up to him winding her arms loosely around his waist she pressed her lips to his grinning, "2014 is going to be a great year...and spending it with you?" She raised an eyebrow swaying them from side to side, "Yeah, that sounds wonderful."

He smiled down at her, and then said "Oh...wait a moment..." flicking out his phone, he typed a quick one handed text. He showed it to her before he sent it.

_**SHE SAID YES**_

Laughing lightly she shook her head at him. Picking up her own phone out of her pocket to see plenty of texts from friends and family. Pleased that she had decided to get a new phone after everything that had happened she saw one from Noah;

'_Happy New Year kid! I'm out with some of the lads from my Battalion, slightly drunk but still able to type and spell. I love you loads. Tell Sherly the same! X'_

Showing Sherlock the text she started to laugh again, "My brother has a nickname for you and loves you apparently."

Sherlock snorted, rolling his eyes and muttering "If that catches on there will be hell to pay"

"He won't remember." Sending him a loving text back, "Not unless he looks at his messages in the morning nursing a hangover." Smiling at Sherlock with a glint in her eye, "Although," she said, playing with the buttons on his jacket, "I like it. Sherly." Drawing out his name.

"Don't you dare" he growled, pulling her in for a very gentle, sweet kiss. He pushed her hair out of her face. He paused as his phone buzzed, and glanced at a text from John. _**'CONGRATULATIONS MATE. Mary's crying again. Happy tears.'**_

She leaned into him letting him kiss her, "But it suits you...Sherly." she teased lightly. Peering at his phone she smiled at John's words, "Hormones." Molly laughed, "She's glowing, pregnancy suits her."

"Mhm" he said, looking as though he were thinking again, his eyes fixed on a point a bit above her head.

She rolled her eyes as his 'thinking face' came on, giving him a peck on the cheek she moved to hang her coat up. Just then her phone rang, reaching beside Sherlock she picked it up and answered, "Hello?"

"Molly!" Noah's happy voice shouted through the phone, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear, "Molly, Molly...Molly!"

Laughed she put him on speaker, "Having a good time?"

"Yes! I miss London's night life! Is Sherly there? Hello Sherly! Happy New Year Sherly!"

Molly couldn't help it, she was shaking with laughter, her brother on a normal day was a tease, her brother drunk suddenly turned into a wind up merchant.

Sherlock seemed to snap out of his reverie. He could hear her brother plainly, and rolled his eyes.

"How drunk do you suppose he is?" he asked with a snort.

Molly opened he mouth to answer but was cut off.

"I'm fine Sherly!" He shouted over the music, "Not drunk at- oi, watch it mate!" There was a short pause and something that sounded like a scuffle, "Gotta go Mols, something's kicking off." With that the phone went dead.

Molly seemed unfazed, "He'll never learn." She said as she put the phone back on the table.

Sherlock laughed quietly, pulling her in for a kiss, and then the reality of it struck him. He looked down at her "We're engaged..."

Molly nodded a wide grin on her face. "Only just realizing?" She tutted, "You're getting slow...Sherly." Laughing quietly before leaning against him in a warm embrace.

He growled softly, but hugged her nonetheless "If you call me 'Sherly' once more..." but there was humor in his tone.

"What are you going to do?" She challenged, giving him a squeeze.

"I'll marry you" he said, his tone mock threatening, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

"I might just let you." She fired back, nudging him with her hips.

He pulled her close, kissing her rather fiercely.

Pulling back a little breathless, "You know...if someone had told me, three months ago that I'd be living with you, spending Christmas with you and by 2014 I'd be engaged to you, I would have laughed in their face. Or probably blushed profusely at the thought." She smiled at him a little bringing her left hand up to look at the ring.

He grinned mischievously "You're also shagging me on a regular basis"

She laughed at that.

He gazed at her, touching her cheek.

"It's beautiful, really." She said gazing at her new piece of jewelry, looking up at him she started to rub circles on his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles through his suit. "I still want to pinch myself very time I wake up and you're beside me."

"I was sure you'd like it, but still ...I was rather nervous" he admitted, looking down at her.

"It was perfect. I had no clue, the roof...an on New Years." Grinning she kissed him, "You old romantic Sherly." Giving him a wink before pushing off him, "I'm going to get ready for bed." Walking towards 'their' room. Everything of Molly's clothes wise was now in Sherlock's room. Moving things out of her old flat had been awful but she couldn't wait to officially move in with Sherlock. She brought some of her other things, few pictures of Toby, her dad and her mother and of course Noah that where now placed around the living room. Everything else went into storage until she could sort through it, which she still had to do.

He watched her go, and as soon as she was gone he leaned against the wall, laughing aloud, giddy with happiness.


	40. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Coming back into the kitchen she was now dressed in one of Sherlock's grey sleep t-shirts and a pair of pajama shorts. She filled up a glass over water, getting out a couple of pain killers she swigs and swallows them both. Turning to see Sherlock looking at her in confusion and worry "Ribs are aching that's all. I think I've overdone it these last couple of days."

He nodded, still concerned looking "Maybe we should have John check them out tomorrow..." He looked a bit anxious.

"If it would ease your mind then we'll ask John tomorrow." She said looking a bit wary, she loved John and trusted him immensely but having to take your top and bra off and be completely exposed to your fiancée's best friend...was something else, she knew he was a doctor and seen much worse things but still. John had helped her though, through the very hard time of dealing with the attack, he'd been there to talk to when she thought she was going to lose it. He listened when she was angry at what had happened. He was a friend and a confidant.

"Molly...if you aren't comfortable then you don't have to" Sherlock said gently

"No, it's fine. I know he'll be professional. You could be there too, I may need a hand to squeeze...or break," she said laughing softy.

He nodded, kissing her forehead very gently. "Molly..." He touched her cheek, looking serious. "I think we need to talk about our previous conversation. About children" he added when she looked confused.

"Now? It's...quarter past one in the morning Sherlock." She noted he was still dressed in his suit, "I'll go climb into bed," putting a hand on her ribs she reached up to give him a quick kiss on the lips, "you get changed and we'll talk then, how's that?"

He nodded, heading toward the bedroom, changing into his sweats and a t-shirt. He turned to face Molly, looking thoughtful.

Molly gave him a smile as she got into bed, pulling the covers back for him, "What's that look for?"

"I have some thoughts" he said quietly "But I don't want to upset you"

"Tell me," she said softly sitting against the head board. The only light source being the street lamp coming through the window, "I promise to try and not get upset."

"Alright well I was thinking" began Sherlock "that if we still intend to have children...we should wait until after the wedding." He looked at her as though worried as to how she would react.

Molly thought for a few moments, it did seem the more logical solution. Having a baby out of wedlock wasn't such a big deal now but it was still slightly frowned upon. Looking up at Sherlock she smiled and nodded her head once, "Okay." She said simply her tone light.

"Really?" He looked at her in surprise "Alright well...are you sure? Because Molly if you want a baby now that's perfectly alright" He brushed back a bit of her hair "Speak your mind"

Molly bobbed her head from side to side, "If it happens naturally? Yes, but if you're wanting to get married within the next nine months or so then, no we won't plan a baby now.. I'd rather not look like a beached whale on our wedding photographs."

"You could never" he said, kissing her gently. "Pregnancy could only increase your beauty to me"

Molly scoffed giving him a raised eyebrow, "You won't be saying that when I'm throwing a hair brush at you and yelling, making you sleep on the sofa one night and blubbering into your shoulder the next," she said laughing into said shoulder, "or making you go get take-away food at three in the morning to ease my weird cravings."

"I wouldn't mind" he said, his voice gentle and honest. "You'd be carrying a baby..._our_ baby. How could I ever be upset with you, knowing that?" He smiled "I would gladly deal with cravings and mood swings for the mother of my child"

Molly looked up at his kind words, she reached for him giving him a soft kiss, "If you aren't careful you're going to make me cry now." She said with a chuckle before sitting back, "Anything else floating around in that head of yours?"

"Not particularly" he said in a quiet voice.

"Are you sure?" Molly asked not convinced, her head tilting.

"Yes, I'm positive." He kissed her gently "And it's very late. We should get some sleep, shouldn't we, future Mrs. Holmes?"

Molly had a broad grin on her face as she looked at the ring once again, she gave her arm a playful pinch before slipping further under the covers, "That we should. Mrs. Holmes…" She said a couple of times, looking up at the ceiling before turning to her fiancée, "Molly Holmes. It has a nice ring to it."

He looked at her fondly, pulling her close to his body and smiling. 2014 was going to be a very good year.

Settling her head on his chest she sighed and started to draw patterns on his sleep shirt, "I love you, so much." Whispering the last part she kissed his chest before wrapping her arm around him more while tangling their legs.

His only answer was a soft hum, loving that he could feel them breathing in sync.

She heard a little 'meow' as she was drifting off to sleep and smiled. It would seem Sweepy and Lyla had taken up residence on Molly's pillow. Wiggling getting more comfy, she sank into Sherlock's arms, sleep pulling at her until she was gone, snoring softly.

He lay awake for some time after that. He got out of bed, very careful not to disturb her, he headed into the sitting room, sitting in his chair and leaning back, a small smile on his face.

"You can't do that." She whimpered turning over, "Please don't. No...Toby...Sherlock." Molly began to squirm under the duvet, both Sweepy and Lyla making a quick escape off the bed, "No, get away from me, no...NO GET OFF!" She half yelled half screamed bolting up right in bed, panting her eyes glazed over, darting around the room.

Sherlock sat up straight, turning and tearing into the room, his eye glazed in terror. "MOLLY!" He moved across the room, pulling her into his arms. "What happened?"

Molly pushed and shot out of his arms batting his hands away, scrambling off the bed nearly hitting the bedside table as she went. She hit the floor and slid herself to the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest her eyes continued to dart around the room, not really seeing. It would seem she's still in some form of a semi-asleep state. "No," she muttered over and over shaking her, "Please don't hurt me," she whispered her please to no one in-particular. Molly hadn't had an episode like this since a couple of days after getting out of hospital, the night after Lestrade took their statements.

He moved forward very slowly, forcing his concern back, his voice gentle and soothing "Molly, it isnt real. Listen to me Molly, its Sherlock. I'm here, I'm not going to hurt you"

Molly ran her hands through her hair pulling at it, she let out a yell, "STOP IT!" She tried to focus on Sherlock's voice, it was familiar, soothing and good. But she could still hear Mark's his taunting ring; _"You're pathetic!" _

_"You think he loves you? You will always be mine Molly." _

_"I'm going STRANGLE the life out of you Molly Hooper!"_

Molly's head snapped up as Sherlock continued to speak, she was battling her way through a thick fog but she saw light. Blinking a couple of times she shook her head as if it would help. All of a sudden the glaze was gone from her eyes and she stared at Sherlock.

"Molly..." He said quietly, moving slowly closer. "It's alright Molly, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, no one can hurt you"

She closed her eyes with a resigned sigh when she knew it had happened again. 'Night Terrors' the doctor called them, worse than a nightmare but far easier to come out of than a normal PTSD outburst. Slumping against the wall Molly hung her head, "I thought this was over." She ran a hand through her messy hair, "I really wanted this to be over." Her voice was quiet, no emotion in it what so ever.

He moved forward, sitting on the floor beside her and pulling her close to him. He could feel her heart pounding, and whispered "It'll be alright. They'll go away, and I'm always here for you"

Molly didn't reciprocate the embrace, she never did after one of these, she simply let him hold her. She took a deep shaky breath in, she felt...hollow and empty, no tears fell, she just closed her eyes against his shoulder. Molly really didn't like these nightmares, although she supposed nobody really liked nightmares. They sat there on their bedroom floor for a good five minutes until Molly pulled away, "Sorry," she laughed bitterly, "Happy New Year."

"Molly" he said reproachfully "Listen to me Molly Hooper. Nothing could ruin this night, nothing! You've said yes to a future with me, and at no point in this relationship will you find me slipping away, whether it be because of night terrors, wedding panic, or pregnancy hormones. I'm not going anywhere Molly, no matter what struggles we face."

"You shouldn't _have _to face this with me, it's not your fault I'm like this. You shouldn't have to put up with me screaming in the middle of the night, scaring the cats half to bloody death." She clenched her fist and slammed it against the wood flooring, "I shouldn't even be like this!"

For a moment, he couldn't find his voice. Seeing her in so much pain was like a physical pain to me. He hesitated, then said "Molly, you're right. You don't deserve this, this shouldn't be happening. But it is, and I'm here for you. No matter what. We can get through this."

She looked at Sherlock for a second and then rested her head on his shoulder, "I'm sorry we keep going through this. The nightmares, me ending up in this blasted corner." Molly laced her fingers through his where they rest on his lap, "But you're right, I can-we can get through this. Together."

"Together." He said comfortingly, pulling her closer. "And don't apologize. You've done nothing wrong"

"It doesn't stop me from feeling guilty Sherlock." Molly mumbled concentrating on her thumb which was rubbing the back of Sherlock's hand. "What time is it?" She asked sighing deeply as she felt tired again.

"3:30" he replied quietly, feeling pain for her pierce him

Nodding she pondered what to do next. It was too early to call it and get up so she decided to go with the other option. She released his hand and used his shoulder as leverage to get up asking him, "Coming back to bed?" She offered her hand to him.

"Of course" he said softly, taking her hand as they headed back to bed.

Molly straightened the rumpled covers before pulling them back and getting in she flipped her pillow in case she got a mouthful of cat hair and laid down staring at the ceiling, suddenly wide awake.

Sherlock could tell she was awake by her breathing pattern. He sighed deeply, and then moved close to her, pulling her into his arms, not knowing what else to do.

"I'm not really sure what to do," her timid voice filled the quiet room. Molly had been thinking a lot about going back to work, not knowing whether going back this early was the beat idea. She hardly slept and when she did. She either woke up to Sherlock shaking her or sat in the corner looking at a petrified and confused Sherlock. Then there was her ribs that had made themselves known again. Yet gradually, her symptoms were fading. Things were looking up…until tonight.

"What's going through that head?" he asked softly, running his fingers gently through her hair. He was worried about her, in a constant state of worry in fact. Even when he was focusing on other things, he never quite got her out of his head.

"Everything..." she said in a sigh, "It doesn't seem to stop. I think I need...help, proper help." Pausing for a second she decided to reveal a snippet, "Cause I can't keep listening to his voice." She confessed. Molly had never told Sherlock what goes on in her nightmares, and she vaguely remembers what went on in her night terrors. She knew Sherlock would blame himself and wallow in guilt. Truth is the only person to blame was Mark, and Mark alone.

He felt his whole body stiffen as he understood, properly understood what was scaring her. He ought to have been gentler, but he pulled her closed anyway, pressing his lips to the top of her head and whispering "It'll be alright Molly. We'll get through this, and if you need to see a...a therapist, well then, we'll do that do. It won't be this way forever"

"I can't see it any other way me, now, I can't see past the nightmares and...everything else. I know...I know I don't talk to you about it much, I'm sorry, I do try, honestly. It's just, you're you and I know how you'll react. Maybe a stranger would help. I thought I could get through it on my own, obviously not." She explained quietly, fiddling with the edge of his t-shirt sleeve.

He rubbed her back gently with his free hand and said "Alright. Well in the morning, we can ask John for some recommendations after he's done congratulating us and Mary's through crying."

She laughed softly, leaning into his chest, "I don't envy her hormone levels at all."

"You may someday have them, so perhaps we should study from afar to know what to expect" he said with a quiet chuckle.

"Oh god," she said with mock horror, "I'm going to be a mess, with all the crying and..." she suddenly perked up, "I heard in the first trimester that a woman's sex drive is at its peak." Looking up at Sherlock with a cheeky grin.

"Oh really?" he asked, propping himself onto one elbow and looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep," she said popping the 'p' "Mary has told me a few things. It not all crying John has to put up with at home." Molly giggled thinking back to the hilarious conversation, which involved Mary pouncing on John demanding sex every hour.

Sherlock snorted with laughter. He had gotten the same mental image. "Hmmmm..." he said, looking as though he was thinking hard, though in reality he was suppressing a grin.

"Poor John," Molly faked a sad face trying not to laugh, "The trials and tribulations of having to put up with a very beautiful, pregnant and slightly horny woman."

"All I have to put up with is beautiful and horny" he said, only half joking. And then, all at once, he rolled over, his hands on either side of her face propping himself up as he looked down at her through half-lidded eyes.

"I suppose so," she grinned, pulling him closer, "although, I don't think I'm the one who's beautiful and horny," with a wink she gave his top a tug and met his lips with hers.

This time, something was different somehow. He was sweeter, still passionate, but it was more like the first time. It wasn't sex, it was making love. And Sherlock realized he preferred it that way.


	41. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

I was a few days later.

Sherlock sat on the arm of his chair. Molly was seated in it, and he knew she was extremely nervous and not very comfortable with this. John was sitting across from her, leaning forward slightly, a crease between his eyebrows. "...And how long has this been happening?" he asked.

Molly rubbed her hands together, "Since...well, since Greg took our statements. I was fine in the hospital apart from that time you, ya'know…" She quickly added, "Not every night though!" Looking at John she continued, "The nightmares happen every other night? I don't know, it's hard to tell. I've had, up to now, three night terrors."

Sherlock squeezed her hand gently, reassuringly.

John nodded, and scanned the list he had brought, crossing several names out. "Right, narrowing down all your various...symptoms, I've come up with three specialists I know of. Ellen was very helpful to me personally, but she's more directed at battle trauma. I think you'd be better off with Lydia Coffin or Joanne Hartford." he handed them the list with the information on it.

Molly closed her eyes with a disgruntled look on her face, "Symptoms?" she asked, maybe a little to harsh, "You make it sound like I have a disease."

John sighed, shook his head, and stood, crossing the room. He crouched so that he met her eye line "Molly, one thing you have to understand is that this isn't a part of you. This will fade, like symptoms do. Sometimes it's easier to think of it as being a bit ill. Otherwise you go down a bad path" He looked at her earnestly. "I thought of myself as...damaged, and broken for so long, Molly, and it just doesn't do. It won't get you anywhere. There's nothing wrong with having a few symptoms, but when you start thinking of yourself as damaged, that's when you go wrong."

"I am damaged." she whispered, her face hard. She looked him in the eye, "You were doing something actually life threatening John. You were in a bloody war zone for Christ's sake. I had someone harass me...killed my cat, it's not as if I nearly died." Shaking her head when John tried to protest, "I want help I really do and I can't thank you enough for everything you've done and what you're doing now...I just-" Letting out an angry groan she stood, suddenly feeling like telling everyone how she felt was a bad idea. She felt like she couldn't breathe; everybody telling her what to do, telling her how she should feel.

Sherlock stood, giving John a look and shaking his head almost imperceptibly. John stood, nodding to Sherlock, leaving the list, and exiting 221B. Sherlock moved toward her "Molly..." he said softly, looking at her in concern.

"No!" She snapped, spinning around to face him, "Don't 'Molly' me, don't mother me. I'm a grown woman, don't give me all the lovey dovey rubbish. I should be able to get _over_ this." Her voice rising, there were no tears, she was just angry.

He stood very still, scrutinizing her, looking as though he wanted to say something. He bit back his words, knowing that saying what he felt wouldn't be helpful. He moved rapidly through the archives of his mind, something that he could say, some logic he could apply. Ah, there is was...logic. It was what he had worked with best before he'd known her properly, was it really just a month ago? _Well _he thought _Let's see if I still have it._

He spoke in a firm voice "Molly, when you knew John and he had post-traumatic stress disorder, did you look at him and think 'he should be able to get over this'? And don't tell me it's different, because it's _not." _His voice was much firmer than usual as he spoke. "Molly, do not deny that you could've been seriously hurt, or even murdered. Believe me, I have gone over how that scenario could've gone at least a thousand times, and so many of them ended with me not getting there, with you..." He shook his head, waving his hand as though to brush away those thoughts. "Molly, the circumstance of how you and John acquired post-traumatic stress disorder makes no difference, none at all. The fact is, you have been hurt, and it has adversely affected you. And there is nothing wrong with that. None of this is your fault, and I'd thank you if you'd stop blaming the woman I love for something she can't control!" his voice was rising, he was using logic but was failing to maintain his composure. He crossed the room, but kept himself a few feet away in case she needed her space.

"Molly, I don't want to ever hear you say you are 'damaged' or 'broken' again. It offends me. It is nothing to do with being damaged or broken. It will go away, I promise you Molly it will. And I refuse to allow you to blame anyone but that bastard for what happened to you! So STOP IT!" He looked at her, breathing hard.

Molly stood stock still, hands by her side staring at Sherlock, listening to everything he said, everything that she _needed_ to hear. He told her straight, full truth, nothing else, he didn't say how she should act or how she should be feeling, he certainly didn't give her the mushy comforting. Her shoulder's sagged and she breathed...actually breathed when he had finished saying all he had. For once she didn't feel suffocated or smothered, she wasn't angry or pissed off. Molly swore she felt some of the weight that had been breaking her shoulders shift, it had moved, fell off her.

A small, thankful smile appeared on her face as she frowned at him wondering just how Sherlock had managed to say all that, without offending her, without patronizing her, "Thank you." she said feeling relieved, her voice full of sincerity.

His shoulders sagged slightly, and he stepped forward, engulfing her in his arms "Don't say that anymore, alright?" and his voice wavered with emotion. "My Molly is not, and never will be broken"

Molly had new-found motivation, she decided there and then that she wasn't going to let this beat her, she wasn't going to be broken, Mark wasn't going to win. She _will_ heal. Sherlock had given her that, he'd used his talent and with a few choice words, he threw them at her like a lifeline.

Pressing her face into his chest not ready to let him go yet, she took a deep breath in, exhaling slowly, "Thank you so much."

"Of course. I'll always be here for you Molly" he said reassuringly, allowing her to cling for him, in fact enjoying it. He kept his arms secured around her, and said quietly "I'm not going anywhere"

"No, John understands. There's no need" he said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"Still, I feel back for acting out." Tilting her head with a thoughtful look on her face she smiled at him, "We should invite them both for dinner, you can cook," she suggested, poking him in the stomach.

"Sounds good" said Sherlock. "I'll call John to check on Mary's latest craving. It's Sunday, aren't you headed back to work tomorrow?" he eyed her sternly "You need some sleep"

Molly blushed a heat creeping up her neck, "I'll be fine Sherlock", she said dismissively, "I'll sleep well tonight, I promise."

"Alright" he said calmly, kissing her gently "I'll give John a call, and we'll schedule it for next Saturday, if that's alright"

Molly smiled while nodding, "Perfect," giving him another peck she turned to the kitchen, "Cuppa?"

"Sure" he said, picking up his phone to dial, but seeing there was a text from Lestrade.

_Sherlock, we really need you this time. We can't do this without you._

Sherlock hesitated. He'd been brushing off cases for the past month, ignoring the work, and not particularly missing it. But Lestrade had been texting him about a difficult case for the past several days. Sherlock dialed John's number, and told him about Saturday. John agreed, and they said farewell to each other.

Sherlock set his phone down on the table as he entered the kitchen, smiling at Molly.

"Did John and Mary agree?" Molly asked slightly worried that she had offended John, she turned to see her...fiancée. Inside she filled with glee, she still wasn't used to it, although it had been one day.

"Of course" he said "They wouldn't deny the spectacular offer of me cooking for them"

He looked at her, scanning her face carefully "You good?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm good." Molly affirmed with a nod, giving him a smile before turning back to the kettle, "You know Sherlock, I'm surprised you haven't been shooting the wall." she joked with a laugh getting two cups out the cupboard, "I thought you would have wanted to get back to solving crimes already. With me going back to work, surely you'll be bored on your own during the day..." Molly said off-handedly, putting some cat food down in the bowl the rustle of the box and sound of biscuits falling into the bowl caused the two cats to scamper into the kitchen.

He paused. Tell her now? Could she handle him not being on call for her? But on the other hand, the killings certainly weren't stopping. In fact, they were speeding up. He felt a definite moral compass that had certainly not been there a month ago.

"Actually..." he started, wondering how on earth he was going to proceed.

Molly continued to make the tea. When Sherlock didn't finish his sentence she turned around to face him, going to put the milk out the fridge, "Actually..?"

"Lestrade's been trying to get me on a case for a couple of days...but if you still need me, I don't need to go" he said, firmly. "My priority is you, so if I'm still needed here, then here is where I'll stay"

"A couple of days? Sherlock, go be the Consulting Detective you are." She moved to stand near him placing his cup of tea on the table beside him, wondering how to say this without it sounding wrong, "I know these past couple of days haven't been my best but I don't need you here 24/7. I know it may sound harsh but I don't need a baby sitter. I'll be back at work, I'll be going to see my therapist."

He nodded, his eyebrows furrowed, cupping her face in one hand and saying quietly "Alright. If you're certain..."

"I'm certain. You've been cooped up in this flat taking care of me, now you can go out, with John, although you may have to let him go home every hour...for Mary," Molly chuckled and kissed him, laughing into his lips, "I'll be fine," she whispered, "Go be the sexy detective I fell in love with."

He laughed, pulling her in for a firmer kiss, and then saying decisively "Tomorrow. When you start working, I will"

"Good. Now, tea. Then I'm going for a nice long shower, if you care to join me." Giving him a suggestive look she turned picking up her own tea she went into the sitting room.

He choked on his tea, watching her go. Lyla and Sweepy were both looking at him from the floor, their tails sweeping across it. He shrugged, and said to them "You kids stay here." he jumped to his feet and followed her into the sitting room.


	42. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

This was it, Molly thought to herself, looking at her reflection in the mirror. First day back. She brushed her blouse and dress pants, clearing them of any cat hair. She checked her watch. She had about forty-five minutes to get to Bart's; plenty of time. Last night was amazing. She and Sherlock had talked more after a lovely shower; it was relaxing and peaceful just what she needed before jumping back into work.

Sherlock had been awake since five in the morning. He had gone out for a half hour to pick up the case files, and had returned with them, spreading them across the tabletop, his lips moving soundlessly as he shuffled his notes, wrote down the occasional word or phrase, ticked off sentences.

Walking into the kitchen she shooed the cats away, rolling her eyes when she saw there was no food down for them. Filling their dishes, she put the food back in the cupboard.

Moving to stand behind Sherlock's chair, she wrapped her arms around his neck, "Sorry to disturb you but I'm off now." She kissed the side of his head.

He looked up, snapped out of his thoughts, turning to kiss her "Alright. Be safe" he said gently, a small smile on his face.

She hummed into the kiss, "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Time to get back to caring for dead bodies." giving him another quick peck, "I love you. Have…" she gestured to the scattered paper work, "fun."

He grinned "Already am. And I love you too" he watched her go before turning back to his work, his eyes flicking over the information, taking mental notes.

The day went by rather quickly, the last time Molly had looked at the clock it was 10:45 now it was sometime after four. It felt strange being out the flat for a change, but it felt better. She didn't feel intimidated, it was good. Sighing Molly sat at her desk ready to fill out the last of her paper work on the last body of the day when Mary came in.

"Miss Hooper!" Her voice resonated around the nearly empty morgue causing Molly to jump.

"Mary!" She gushed, "What brings you..." Noticing the angry look on her friends face as she nears the desk, "What's wrong?"

"Your _fiancé_." She growled out, sitting down in the opposite chair.

Molly groaned, "What's he done now."

"He won't give me my husband back." A pout formed on Mary's face.

At that precise moment, Mary's phone rang. It was John on the end "MARY LISTEN TO ME! Listen to me Mary, Sherlock's in trouble, we're both in trouble. I love you all right, I lov-" The phone line went dead.

Molly heard John's voice shouting, what had Sherlock done now? She rolled her eyes looking up at Mary seeing the look of utter horror on her face, her heart dropped into her stomach.

"Mary?" She asked slowly, "Mary, what's wrong? What's happened?" Molly was trying her damnedest to keep her voice from waving.

"It's-" Mary gasped, "It's John, and Sherlock..."

Molly didn't need to hear more than that, she dived for her phone and dialled Greg's number, putting it to her ear, "Pick up, pick up...PICK UP!" She growled.

Lestrade answered. In the background were sirens, people shouting. "MOLLY?!" he shouted over all the noise, having seen her caller ID.

Molly let out a whimper at all the noise, "Greg, please tell me they're okay. Please..." She asked coming around and wrapping one arm around a distraught Mary, she needed to keep her calm for the baby's sake.

"You need to get over here Molly, you're the only one who can talk him round. We're just around the corner from Bart's, step outside and you'll know where to go. Get over here NOW!" the phone clicked as Greg hung up.

She didn't know what to do, she couldn't leave Mary, yet she had to get to Sherlock and John. Talk him round, what was going on?

Mary voice broke through her thoughts, "Go."

"What? No I can't leave-"

"Go." She said sternly, giving Molly a forceful look.

"What are you going to do?"

Mary placed a hand over her bump, "As much as I'm worried about John and Sherlock, I need to stay calm, I can't go running around. Please go, for me, go and see them."

Molly gave her friend a hug and a kiss to the cheek before running out of the room, still in her lab coat, not bothering to stop to put on her own coat.

Molly legged it down the corridor to the exit of Bart's barreling through the double doors. She looked one way, then the other, seeing a huge crowd of civilians at the end of the road all outside an abandoned building of some sorts. There were police cars, blue and red lights flashing, uniformed officers running around trying to get the crowd together. Turning she ran towards them all trying to push the awful thoughts out of her mind; she _had_ to get to Sherlock, that was all she was saying, it was the mantra in her head. Get. To. Sherlock. NOW.

Skidding to a stop, she almost slipped; December was over but the snow and ice still lingered into the New Year. Pushing people out the way, "Let me through," she ripped of her lab coat, keeping her ID around her neck and phone in her pocket she yelled, "Let me through, police!" she didn't know any other way of making them move.

Arms shot out, grabbing her and holding her back. It was Lestrade and he was shouting "MOLLY DON'T!"

A shout came from above, and there he was, standing at the shattered window of the abandoned building. His eyes swept the crowd and locked on Molly, his face blanched in horror, and then Sherlock Holmes disappeared back into the building once again. And then, without warning, it blew.

The building didn't collapse, but caught fire as though someone had dropped a match in gasoline at the very center. Black smoke oozed out of the windows, flickering flames licking around the window frames hungrily. There was no sign of sherlock.

Lestrade's grip on Molly was vice like, knowing that if he released her she would bolt for the burning building. The DI's face was fixed on the building, knowing there was nothing to be done, no way they could risk going in, not now. The fire department was on the way, but there was only so much they could do...

The flames leapt higher.

It seemed slow motion, like something out of a movie the blast came and shook everyone, some people nearly knocked off their feet. Molly thrashed against Greg, kicking her legs against his but he just lifted her up, "SHERLOCK!" Screaming until her voice was hoarse, "LET ME GO!" Molly punched at his arms trying to get his grip to loosen, but to no avail.

People were screaming, fire truck sirens wailing, and then Sherlock Holmes burst out of the double doors, dragging John Watson. John appeared unharmed, but Sherlock's coat was smoking. He dragged John to safety, then turned and looked at Molly. His face was contorted in pain, and though it was impossible to hear over all the noise, it was clear what he was saying.

"I'm sorry"

And then he turned, disappearing back into the building.

It seemed an age before the firefighters arrived, dressed in their gear. Two of them plunged into the building, and vanished for several minutes.

The crowd had gone silent, the sirens the only noise left now.

Lestrade's heart was pounding in his chest as he watched it all happening, holding Molly as tightly as he could without hurting her.

Something in Molly snapped she let out a yell the sound echoing over the sirens "GOD!" If Sherlock was going to be stupid she would at least help the sensible one out of the duo with that dug her nails into Greg's just hard enough for his grip to loosen, and did the first thing she could. Ran. Fighting through the hordes of people and officers she made it to John faster than anyone else, dropping down to his side, "John?!" she was frantically searching him for any burn damage.

Several paramedics were rushing toward them. John's clothes were smoking slightly, but he wasn't burned. In fact, he looked relatively unharmed.

Then there came a shout from the building as the firefighters came running out, each with an adult over their shoulder. And behind them came Sherlock.

He was bent low to avoid the smoke, carrying what looked like a child in his arms. His hands were burned, holes singed into his belstaff and trousers. He made it outside the dangerous area. Several paramedics rushed forward, one taking the child from him, the others swarming around him, examining him. But he threw them off, turning, his smoke blurred eyes seeking one person "MOLLY!"

Molly spun around to see him standing there. She was up and running over to him in an instant.

"Oh my god!" she threw her arms around him, he was hot, very hot and not in the good way. She squeezed him until she deemed it necessary to let go. She dropped down to her feet, taking his soot ridden head in her hands, looking into his eyes, "Are you alright? Do you hurt anywhere? Oh my god, please be okay."

He looked at her blurrily for a moment before dropping to his knees right there on the pavement. The paramedics were yanking off his coat. He had several burns on his arms, and one of his hands looked a bit red, but it was his right hand that was most alarming. In several places the skin was broken and blackened. He was shaking, and then sagged backward, unconscious. Molly nearly gagged as she saw his right hand; she could tell it was badly burnt. She looked around helplessly as the paramedics fired off orders, one catching her attention.

"Smoke inhalation" said one of the paramedics "We need to get an oxygen mask!"

"Get him on an IV!"

"He's not breathing, we've got to get him to Bart's!"

They lifted him onto a stretcher, and carried him toward the ambulance. He was very still.

_He's not breathing..._

"SHERLOCK!" She sank down with him, cupping his face as the paramedics man-handled him, "Sherlock please, stop it, stop this!" she shouted at him, slapping his face lightly. The paramedics were lifting him onto a stretcher now.

She tried to go after them, wanting to stay with him, ready to do anything it took.

One of the paramedics held her back "Ma'am, he needs to be in urgent care NOW! You'll only hold us up!" The paramedic was a woman, and she looked at her earnestly "You would only get in the way, we need to focus only on him"

Sherlock was being loaded into the ambulance, an IV slipped into the scarred skin of his forearm, an oxygen mask on his face.

Lestrade moved forward, gripping Molly's arm and gently pulling her back "Come on Molly, I'll take you to Bart's alright?" He could feel her shaking like a leaf.

Molly's legs gave out as she saw the ambulance tear down the street, "I can't- I need, bloody hell." She clutched Greg's arm. Sherlock wasn't breathing, smoke inhalation, burns...his left hand. Molly internally grimaced at the thought. Suddenly she shot up and hit Lestrade on the chest, "What the HELL happened?" she roared as onlookers stared wide eyed at the whole situation. The firemen behind them were struggling to control the fire taking over the blazing building.

"He was on this case, Molly. It all happened very fast. You know he doesn't involve us. But he called, something about an insurance scam and an abandoned building. All the victims were homeless, see. He saw some of their rap sheets, and went white as a sheet. He took off. When he called us, he was here with John. There were people in the building he said over the phone, and some sort of...of bomb. They were going to blow the place, make it look like an accident, and collect. They'd been getting rid of the people who were regularly around the building. But when Sherlock got in...there was a family"

He shot a look over his shoulder at the other departing ambulances, one containing the two adults, the other a child.

"A homeless family. He called me. John wouldn't leave, but Sherlock knew the building was going to blow, and he couldn't find the family...and I don't know what happened after that" Lestrade tugged her arm gently "Come on, we need to get to the hospital so that you can see him as soon as possible."

"He...he knew the building would blow and he still-?" She whispered, she couldn't believe it, she didn't know what to think. How could he be so careless, Molly glanced down at the ring on her finger and swallowed, was it that easy? To risk your life when you know you have a family waiting for you back home. Her, Lyla, Sweepy...John, Mary.

She moved slowly and silently as Greg guided her along with him.

Greg seemed to sense what she was thinking, and said quietly "Molly, he's always had a heart. Always risked a bit too much. but that family, that child would've died if it weren't for him. What if it was your child?"

She shot him a thunderous glare, "If it was my child your hand would be broken, not marked by my finger nails." Her voice was cold and full of warning.

It was a very short drive, but Greg stayed silent, pulling up alongside the hospital "Do you want me to come in?"

Molly stared out the window for a few moments, "Yeah, please." She said quietly turning back to him as a tear slid down her cheek; she really needed her surrogate big brother at the moment.

He looked over at her, brushing the tear away and throwing the car in park. As they headed up toward the building, Greg Lestrade did something he hadn't done in a long time. He prayed.

When they entered the building, he approached the desk at once. "Sherlock Holmes?" he asked, flashing his badge.

The woman typed at the computer for a moment and then said "He was just admitted. He's still in A&E, but we'll call you when we have news"

Molly's head bowed when she heard the woman say they wouldn't be allowed to see Sherlock yet. She turned slowly and moved off into one of the closed off waiting areas to the side of the main room.

Lestrade went to join her, sitting in the hard plastic seat beside her and touching her arm "He'll be alright. He's too stubborn to give up."

"First day back." She said staring at the chair in front of her, "First day back after a pretty amazing Christmas and New Year and this happens..." Trailing off she shook her head, leaning forward placing her elbows on her knees she put her head into her hands. "I knew it was all going too well. Like it was too good to be true." Her voice was muffled by her hands.

Greg put a hand on her back, gently moving it in slow soothing circles until a woman's voice said "Sherlock Holmes?"

"Yes!" Molly shot out of her seat, quickly wiping her eyes looking expectantly at the woman in front of her.

"This way" said the nurse kindly, leading the way down a clean white hall. They turned into a private room.

Sherlock was lying on the bed, an oxygen mask strapped to his face, unconscious. He had an IV in his arm, and his hand was bandaged. The rest of his burns were relatively minor and small, wrapped and clearly cleaned. Some parts of his hair was a bit singed, but nothing overly noticeable.

Lestrade stood back, letting Molly go first.

"Oh Sherlock," Molly managed to sigh taking in the sight of him, it was quite overwhelming. Her eyes scanning over every piece of equipment he was attached to, not knowing what they did. She glanced back at Greg, "Will you stay? Please?" Her voice shaking. She bit her lip to stop the tears from coming again.

He nodded, looking wordlessly at the immobile detective.

They sat there for a long time before John and Mary walked into the room. John had a small cut on his forehead, and a bruise on his cheek, but otherwise looked unharmed. Mary was clinging to him, looking terrified.

John moved forward "Sher...Jesus Christ..."

Molly didn't know John or Mary had walked; in she was too busy holding Sherlock's relatively uninjured hand and willing telepathically him to wake up, lost in her own mind. She was staring at his face, which was partially obscured by the oxygen mask, a worried expression etched on her own as silent tears took streaked down her cheeks. _Wake up!_ she screamed in her head. He had to be okay, he just had to be.

Molly sniffled and wiped her nose deciding she needing to do something, she sent up a prayer and warning.

_I don't normally do this, I've refused to speak to you since you took my Dad from me which wasn't fair. For that I'll never forgive you. Right now I need to know Sherlock is gonna be okay. Don't you DARE take him away from me. Please, if you are listening, let him be alright._

And then, quite suddenly, Sherlock's eyes slowly opened. He let out a groan, muffled by the oxygen mask, and his eyes, still slightly reddened from the smoke, focused on Molly's face. His uninjured hand came up to touch her cheek "Molly..." he rasped out, his voice still muffled. He lowered his hand and pulled the oxygen mask off his face. "Molly, are you...alright? How's John...that family?"

"I'm fine mate" said John from the doorway. Mary was clinging to John, still shaking slightly.

Lestrade watched in complete silence.

Molly glanced at the ceiling.

_Thank you_

"Hey," she stood leaning over him brushing some hair off his face she rested her forehead against his. He smelt of smoke and burnt wood. Rubbing his cheek she replaced the oxygen mask, "You need to keep this on. It helps. I'll ask one of the doctors how the family are doing for you okay?" She said with a shaky smile looking at Greg in a silent request.

Greg nodded, stood, and left the room.

Sherlock looked as though he was trying to take in the scene. His eyes flicked to John and Mary, rlief spreading when he saw John was alright. His eyes found Molly, and then he seemed to process what he was connected to. The oxygen mask. The heart monitor. And...

He tore the mask off himself, ripping out the needle as he staggered out of bed. "No!" gasped out, staring in horror at the drip. "No no...no painkillers" He tried to take even breaths, but failed without the mask.

Molly eyes went wide, "Sherlock! Stop!" She placed both hands on his shoulders to stop him from moving, looking back to John for some help, "Please, calm down you're going to do more damage to yourself." She said firmly trying to make him understand.

Sherlock looked at her, the panic slowly fading from his eyes. The oxygen mask was hanging from the cart beside his bed, and he reached out and took it, holding it to his mouth with his good hand. He took several long, deep breaths.

John watched his friend, looking immensely concerned. He knew why Sherlock had reacted to that. He had refused to take drugs, even when he had colds or migraines. Even the non-addictive stuff he would swat away.

Lestrade entered the room, taking in the scene in surprise. He looked at John questioningly, who shook his head.

Sherlock pulled the oxygen mask away from his face, and rasped "Well?"

"Thanks to you, they'll all make a full recovery" said the DI gently.

Sherlock's shoulder's sagged in relief as he replaced the oxygen mask, his eyes finding Molly. "I'm sorry" he said, his voice muffled "I couldn't leave them..."

She was relieved that they survived, she couldn't be happier for the family but she couldn't stop the hard look that crossed her face although her voice was soft contrast to that of her face, "I'm not going to say I'm not annoyed or mad at you what you did, going in there without a second's thought but I do understand why." She paused, her finger gently running through his hair, "I would have probably done the same in your position."

He slowly got to his feet, the oxygen mask still held to his mouth. He glanced over himself briefly, and then looked over at his hand. The painkillers still numbed him, and he despised it. "How bad?" he asked, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Molly moved to stand in-between his legs her hand still stroking his hair,

"It looked pretty bad Sherlock. You may have some dead tissue that would need to be removed. But I'm not a medical doctor." She turned and pressed the orange button above his bed signaling they wanted assistance, "I've pressed your buzzer, I'll get a nurse to call for your doctor."

He nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his hand. He had no idea what he was supposed to be thinking or feeling. He'd forgotten, in all his recklessness, that he was just as fallible as the next man. His hand would serve a grim reminder. He looked over at Molly, and with his good hand he pulled her into a hug, relieved that she was here, that he was alive to hold her.

She let him take refuge in her arms curling her arms around his shoulder she held onto him, his face pressed him her cheat she placed a kiss on the top of his head. Thanking the powers that be, she lost her father, she'd be damned if she lost Sherlock too.

"Are you finally realizing that you aren't superman?" She said into his ear in a whisper, "I don't know what I would have done if you didn't come out of that building Sherlock. I can't imagine my life without you in it anymore. I love you so much, don't _ever _scare me like that again." Her voice was thick and it took all she could not to breakdown in front of him. She couldn't imagine the size of the hole in her heart if he'd not come out of that building alive. Molly had to be strong for him now, just like he was for her.

He nodded silently. John took Mary's hand, and tugged her out of the room. Lestrade waited, knowing that when Sherlock inevitably fell asleep, Molly would stay. He wanted to be there for her. A nurse entered the room, followed by a short, kindly faced doctor

"Ah! Mister Holmes glad to see you're awake. I'm Doctor Fletcher, I'll be taking care of you for the duration of your stay here with us." The doctor said cheerily looking Sherlock in the eye at all times untill he looked to Molly, "Mrs. Holmes?"

Molly didn't hesitate, "Yes."

"And...you are?" He asked turning to Lestrade.

"DI Lestrade. I can step out, if need be, but I'll be staying the night here" his voice was very firm. He knew that visiting hours didn't typically allow this, but he kept his badge held up until the Doctor responded.

Doctor Fletcher nodded at the Detective Inspector. "We have a family room available if you wish to stay there. I can have one of the nurses bring you a blanket." He explained before turning to his patient.

Molly sent Greg a mouthed thank you over Sherlock's head.

Sherlock was still seated at the edge of the bed. A very small, thin trickle of blood ran from his forearm where he had ripped the needle out. He was holding the oxygen mask to his face, struggling to catch his breath, the strap hanging loosely. He held Molly's hand with his good one.

"Mister Holmes can I have you back laying on the bed please?" The doctor asked kindly, coming to stand next to Molly, who moved out of the way a little.

Sherlock hesitated, then did as he was told, swinging his legs back up onto the bed. He kept his eyes off to the side of the doctor, on Molly. He loathed hospitals, especially when he was the patient.

"Now I've had a look at your medical records," he said taking a wet antiseptic wipe and wiping the blood of Sherlocks arm and around where the IV line was supposed to be, before placing a plaster there, "I understand completely at your aversion to pain killers Mister Holmes. If we had known sooner I assure you, we wouldn't have administered any." He said, sincerity hanging in his voice. Fletcher picked out his pen light and held up a finger, "Follow my finger please." When Sherlock did just that he smiled, "Good," he drew out the word so it had at least another four syllables. Popping his pen light back in his pocket he checked the heart monitor and reattached some of the pads. Moving two fingers to Sherlock's wrist he watched the clock for fifteen seconds before smiling, "I'll have a nurse change your bandages in a few hours. But other than that hand everything is perfectly normal. Your throat will hurt for a few weeks due to how much smoke you inhaled but it's just your windpipe lining repairing itself. The soreness in your eyes will go within a couple of days but we can get you drops for them."

The short doctor crossed his arms a serious look on his face, "Now you're hand..."

Sherlock looked at him with rapt attention, trying to remain calm. The verdict was about to drop. How bad was his hand? Would he have full use?

Fletcher perched himself on the edge of Sherlock's bed, his posture open and caring, "Your hand.. We got a good look at it while we had you in A&E we were pleased to find it wasn't as bad as it looked. In burns cases looks can be very deceiving." He smiled before continuing, "However, you will have to have a minor operation on it to remove dead tissue that was killed by the burn. It's nothing serious, it's just to remove all the blackened skin. From what we could tell there wasn't any permanent nerve or bone damage but as I say, looks can be deceiving and we'll know after the operation. We will have to put you under for it as it will be very painful even using a general anesthetic." Seeing Sherlock about to interrupt he held up a hand, "During the operation you won't be given any pain relief I will make sure. Just the anesthetic to get you to sleep." Checking Sherlock's chart he jotted down a few notes before standing, "I've booked you in tomorrow morning at 9:00 so we can get it done as quick as possible, as you aren't on pain relief." Fletcher looked around the room, "Any questions?"

Sherlock looked at him carefully, scrutinizing the man. The damned painkillers were still wearing off, but he was himself enough to know that this was a good person standing before him. Finally, he nodded, saying quietly "Thank you. I appreciate it"

"No problem Mister Holmes. It's my job to make sure my patients are properly treated and cared for." He looked pointedly at his patient, "I want that mask on 24/7, the amount of carbon dioxide in your system from breathing in the smoke needs to be converted back into oxygen." With a nod to everyone in the room he turned and left.


	43. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Sherlock sighed, complying with the doctor wishes as he secured the strap so that it held the mask on. He turned to Molly, smiling faintly "Hey...I'm sorry I scared you"

Molly looked at him, she couldn't help to smile back. "You will be, when you're sleeping on the sofa for a month." She grumbled, coming to stand near his bed again.

"I'll survive" he said with a light smile "Lucky it wasn't my left hand, or we might not've been able to get the ring on" He toyed with the ring on her left hand, his eyes gentle as they scanned her face.

She nodded sending him a smile before her eyes flicked down to watch his fingers fiddle with her engagement ring, a small suggestive pout forming at her lips, she looked at him through her eyelashes a little glint in her eye, "How long before you have enough use of that hand that we can get up to our…usual nightly activities?"

He scanned her face, his eyes slightly narrowed, and growled "Ah, stop it. It's not like I can exactly do anything right now. Don't tease a man while he's down". It was his turn to pout.

A grin tugged at her lips as she lifted his left hand up to place a kiss on his palm, "Sorry," she said before moving to kiss his cheek, "Sherly." She whispered in his ear.

He tried to sit up to kiss her, but fell back almost at once, inhaling deeply, trying not to cough.

"Sorry" he rasped out, touching her face gently. He saw how worried she looked and shook his head "None of that, none of that"

Molly shook her own head, and glanced at Greg in worry before looking back at Sherlock, "I'm the one who should be sorry, I shouldn't be tormenting like that." She ran her fingers through his hair, "Get some rest okay? You'll need all the sleep you can get with the pain killers wearing off." She removed the mask for a second and placed a soft kiss to his lips before popping the mask back, securing the ties, "I'll be right here. I won't be too far. I promise."

He smiled at her, and for a moment fought to stay awake, but the lure of sleep was too tempting. He sank back into the pillow, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

Greg stepped forward "Molly?" he said softly "You alright?"

Molly kept stroking his hair until she _knew_ he was asleep and wasn't faking. The sudden realization of nearly losing him, his hand...everything hit her and she had to put a hand over her mouth as a silent sob wracked through her. Shaking her head she looked up at Greg and shook her head 'no'.

He moved forward at once, gently pulling her away from the bed and hugging her. When her legs gave out, they sat on the floor, and he held the woman he loved like a sister, murmuring "It's alright Molly, it'll be alright. He's fine, he's alive and going to be fine"

She continued to cry quietly as not to wake the sleeping man in the hospital bed. Her head nestled in the crook of Greg's neck she gripped the fabric of his sleeve, "I can't lose him, I don't know what I would've done..." She sniffled and tried to calm herself down.

"I think he'll be taking the field work easy for a bit anyway Molly, but you can't let this..." Greg sighed, not sure what to say. "He'll be fine Molly, he would never give up, never. He's too stubborn"

She blew out a breath against Greg's neck, "I know, I know. God- I was so scared. I don't think ever been so scared Greg." Molly moved her head to look at Sherlock, "Is this what it felt like when I got attacked?" She aimed the question at Sherlock but she knew he couldn't answer it.

Lestrade stayed silent for a moment "He was in a right state" he said quietly "He...he wouldn't have told you, but he was..." he shook his head at the memory "I've never seen a man look so scared. And the look in his eyes when he was running for you, the look on his face when he had that bastard on the ground..." he looked at her "The way you two see each other, look at each other, it puts other couples to shame. You two will be just fine together. You'll get married, coupla kids, live out your days together. Molly, big picture: You two will be _fine"_

Molly couldn't help but smile at the mention of marriage and children. "When I, when he- when _Mark_," she said the name as if it tasted horrible," had me against the wall I thought that was it. He was either going to kidnap me or kill me. But then I heard Sherlock's voice," she let out a little laugh and continued quietly, "I was so oxygen deprived I thought I was dreaming. But then he was on top of Mark and...I didn't genuinely didn't know if he was going to stop. I was scared. Not of him but _for_ him because...well I don't know. I didn't want him to get into trouble." She stopped. This is how easy it was to talk to Greg, everything just came out when she and Greg spoke.

"He said..." Greg hesitated, then said quietly "He said that if I hadn't pulled him off Mark, I'd be arresting him for murder" he shook his head. "I don't know if its right or wrong, but that man loves you more than I've ever seen anyone love before. He'd lie for you, kill for you, and he'd certainly die for you Molly. He cares so much about you. I never thought I'd see it happen, Sherlock Holmes falling in love. But just looking at his face as he watches you...it's enough to break your heart"

Molly stayed quiet trying to get her head around when Greg had said. She knew Sherlock loved her she would never_ ever_ doubt that, but...kill for her? That was a whole new level. Die for her? She couldn't process it. A single tear slid down her cheek as she looked at her fiancé, the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with, have kids with. She started to cry again, "You really have a way with words Greg." She said with a light chuckle.

"Not usually. I'm pretty bad until I'm talking to you, to be quite honest" he mumbled, gently rubbing her back. "But I've got to tell you Molly, that man loves you. There's no getting rid of him."

"You do fine when you're wooing the ladies," nudging his shoulder." she looked at Sherlock, "Anyway I don't want rid of him." She smirked as she wipe her eyes, "He's amazing, and the sex..." She murmured. Turning back to Greg she blushed as she realized she'd said that out loud.

He snorted with laughter, forcing himself to keep his voice down "That was more than I ever wanted to know" he said, restraining himself from bursting out laughing with great difficulty.

She groaned and dropped her head to his shoulder, "Breath a word and I'll tell lovely Jen a few stories of my own about you." Giving him a mock glare.

Lestrade's eyes widened "That's fighting dirty" he growled "But alright, I suppose I can't tell then. Come on, you should get some sleep in the family room they've got set up. It's been a long day."

She looked back at Sherlock still in his deep slumber, "How far is the family room? I don't want to venture too far. I don't want him to wake up on his own."

It's just across the hall. I saw it when I was checking on the family. You'll hear if anything happens" he said firmly, standing and pulling her to her feet "Come on Molly, you look exhausted."

Molly reluctantly nodded, moving to Sherlock's side and kissed his for head, "I love you." she whispered before following Greg out of the room.

It was a night without complications. Sherlock awoke around seven in the morning. He nearly yelled aloud.

His hand felt as though it was burning again. He looked at it, and it appeared completely normal. The painkillers had worn off while he was sleeping. He sat up, grimacing, but when he heard footsteps coming into his room, he smoothed his face into a relaxed, calm expression. He would NOT show weakness.

Molly's night was very different, was laid awake most of the time on one of the cots, Greg beside her snoring his head off on another. Pulling out her phone she checked the time, 04:37. Sighing she placed her phone back into her pocket. Molly rolled her eyes and shot out a fist into Greg's shoulder knocking him and effectively stopping his snoring.

Doctor Fletcher was making his rounds and knocked as he entered Sherlock's room surprised to see him awake, "Good morning Mister Holmes," he greeted coming to stand by his bedside, "I see the nurse came to change your bandage. She mentioned you didn't even stir as she was doing it. You must have been quite tired."

"I haven't slept well recently" he admitted quietly, waving his good hand airily. "You said the procedure was at 9:00? No painkillers?" he checked.

Fletcher gave him a sympathetic look as he check his heart monitor, and then nodded in affirmation, "Nine o'clock sharp. No pain killers." He took his pen light and moved it left right, up and down in each of Sherlock's eyes.

"Your wife and the Detective Inspector it seems spent the night in the family room. I can get then if you wish?" He asked, making sure the oxygen mask was on correctly. He moved to the end of the bed jotting down his findings on Sherlock's chart.

He started slightly at the word "wife", but changed tack at once "If they're awake. Don't wake them up. She's had quite a lot of stress, I want her to be..." he sighed. "I want her to be alright"

"Right you are." Fletcher gave him a smile before heading across the hall to the family room, the lights were still off, the only light coming from the window in the door. He knocked lightly and entered. Seeing Mrs. Holmes asleep, albeit with a frown on her face. He turned to the Inspector seeing him very much awake, "Ah," he whispered, "Detective, Mister Holmes is awake."

"Right, I'll go see him" said Lestrade. He stood and nodded his thanks to the doctor, crossing the hall and entering Sherlock's room.

The consulting detective looked up at Lestrade. He didn't speak for a moment, and then said "thank you...for staying with her"

Lestrade nodded. He indicated Sherlock's hand "It hurts, doesn't it?"

Sherlock considered lying for a moment, then nodded, saying "Don't tell her. It'd just upset her."

The older man nodded. "You're a good man, Sherlock Holmes"

A nurse came in looking sheepish, carrying what seemed to be a bag of saline solution, and another IV kit, "Mister Holmes I need to get you hooked up to some fluids." Her eyes switched between Lestrade and Sherlock, "It's mandatory before an operation, seeing as you can't eat or drink before the procedure."

He eyed her suspiciously for a moment, then nodded "Alright"

As she inserted the needle, he flinched visibly, not because it hurt, but because it was a cruel sensory reminder of days gone by. Lestrade watched, his face set and slightly white. It had been he who had first known of Sherlock's heroin use, he who had sat down beside him in an alley once and said "You gotta get clean."

When he had heard that Sherlock had gone missing for a week, he had thought the worst. But Sherlock had come home, looking pale and shaky but with his track marks fading. Lestrade knew that someone was helping Sherlock get clean, and hadn't said a word since.

He also was very aware that Sherlock was nearly on the point of relapsing when John had shown up. He had been about to intervene until that first case, when he saw how happy the detective looked with a friend.

"Sorry." The nurse apologized seeing him flinched thinking she'd hurt him. Hooking the bag onto the stand she gave him a small smile before informing him, "I'll be back an hour before the operation with your gown and gear you'll need to put on for the procedure." With that she left.

Molly woke slowly, a headache pounding groaning she sat up, realizing she was on her own with Greg's jacket over her. She stood up, stretching. She put the jacket over her arm and left the family room. Walking into Sherlock's room her eyes went wide at the sight of another IV in his arm, "What-?"

"Just a saline solution" he explained quickly "To keep me hydrated. I can't eat or drink, so..." he shrugged. His hand felt as though it was on fire, but he kept his eyes on Molly, refusing to show how much pain he was in.

Molly visibly relaxed, whoever got the IV in him deserved a medal. She handed Greg his jacket back with a smile before moving over to Sherlock. She eyed his hand and looked at him before giving him a kiss on the forehead, "How are you...really?"

"I'm fine" he said firmly, pulling down his oxygen mask, and with some effort leaning up to kiss her. He pulled it back on as soon as he laid back again, taking several deep breaths. He saw her looking worried and smiled. The lie was easy when he was doing it to protect her. "Really Molly, I'm alright"

She closed he eyes briefly when he kissed her. "Keep the mask on." Molly chastised sternly, "You may be the genius in the room but I can read you like a book Sherlock Holmes." she commented, sitting on the edge of his bed, taking his good hand in her own.

Molly stroke his cheek with her other hand, "Sleep well?" She asked softy. Her head was killing her, she'd have to get some pain killers soon. She would have laughed at the irony, here she is complaining of a headache when her fiancé is laid up in a hospital bed with a charcoal hand.

"I slept fine" he said, brushing her hair out of her face. "But you didn't" he observed "Go get some Ibuprofen for that headache." he said firmly. He didn't miss the irony of it, but didn't mind in the slightest.

"How did you-," shaking her head with a smile, "Never mind." Leaning forward she kissed his cheek and doing as he asked, "Back in a minute."

"Alright" he said, watching her go fondly. Forgetting Lestrade for a moment, he sat up, staring in his hand with revulsion on his face. He hated it, hated that he couldn't control what he was feeling.

Lestrade moved forward. "You alright?"

Sherlock's head snapped up, and he nodded automatically.

Lestrade shook his head "You're usually a better liar then this"

Sherlock let out a humorless laugh.

Molly was in the queue at the pharmacy when her phone rang, "Hello?"

John voice sounded on the other end, **"Molly I'm glad you're awake. How is he?" **

Letting out a sigh she explained the situation, with his hand, throat and eyes.. "The operation is at nine. He's still refusing pain killers."

_"He's a stubborn sod Molly you should know that by now. Having said that I don't blame him." _

Laughing she placed her items on the counter smiling at the cashier, "No, no. Can't blame him. I'll give you a ring after he's out of surgery yeah?" She'd gotten Greg a sandwich and a bottle of water for himself knowing he hadn't had breakfast, and herself a sandwich. Feeling guilty for bringing food around Sherlock she would eat hers later.

_"Okay. Molly...take care of yourself okay?"_

"Yes Dad." She quipped and hung up. After paying for her items she went outside, popping a couple of pain pills she swallowed them down with a couple of swigs out a bottle of water. Placing them back into the back she headed back up to Sherlock's room.

Lestrade was standing beside Sherlock, in earnest conversation with him. Neither of them noticed Molly come in. Sherlock's face was contorted with pain. He was shaking his head at whatever Lestrade was saying.

Molly stopped when she saw the look on Sherlock's face, she backed up a bit. She knew she shouldn't eavesdrop but if Sherlock wasn't going to tell her outright how he was doing then maybe he'd tell Greg. Biting her lip she tried not to ruffle the bag as she hung by the door.

"Sherlock, listen to me, they aren't addictive, you need something for the pain!"

"NO!" he snapped at once "No, Greg, I can't do that. I can't, I'll go numb, its far too easy a thing to do. I won't, I can't..."

"Sherlock you're being unreasonable!"

"UNREASONABLE?!"

Sherlock sat upright, tearing the mask off and staring at Greg. "You listen to me" he rasped, "I spent years addicted to those things, years taking a needle or a razor or whatever other foul thing to my arm, and I am NOT going back! NEVER! When they stick needles in me it's just a harsh reminder of all those days detoxing, giving in, relapsing, AND DETOXING AGAIN! I won't do that again, I WON'T!" he was struggling for air, but his eyes were fixed on Lestrade's face.

Lestrade gently pushed him back down, replacing the oxygen mask "Alright mate, alright, don't worry about it. I don't know what you're going to do, it'll be at least a month before that hand heals, and it's going to hurt the whole time"

"I don't care" rasped Sherlock. "I won't take pills, I won't! Listen to me Lestrade, I was so close to relapsing just a few weeks ago! DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT WOULD'VE DONE TO HER?!" he shuddered in horror, feeling sick at the thought "no, I won't risk it. I won't risk being numb at the wedding, I won't risk our first child being born while I'm in rehab, I WON'T DO THAT TO HER!"

Molly's heart broke as she put a hand over her mouth. He wouldn't take pain relief partly because of her. He was terrified about getting hooked again, understandable, but not accepting them because of what she might think how she might react? That's stupid, damn him and his stubbornness. She turned around the door, slowly revealing herself. She had tears in her eyes; she hated seeing him like this. If she could take all the pain away she would in an instant.

Sherlock had hated himself the moment he realized she overheard. Greg stepped back at once, letting them be with each other.

"Take them." She pleaded, "I know you're scared about becoming addicted again, I know you're scared about the operation, not having control while you're unconscious. I'm scared for you. But you need these pain killers Sherlock." Molly placed the bag on the floor beside his bed and came to stand on the side where his injured hand was, looking down at it she continued, "Greg's right. It's going to hurt. You won't be on the pain killers all the time. It's just to _manage_ the pain. You aren't going to be out of it."

She placed a hand on his chest feeling it rise and fall with every labored breath he took.

"You won't get addicted to them. You won't be numb or in rehab again. You _will_ be there for the wedding and you _will_ be there with me breaking your hand and calling you names when our child is born." She looked him in the eye, "Please Sherlock."

He looked up at Molly searchingly. His good hand came up to touch her face. He looked up at her for a moment, before finally saying "Al-alright Molly I'll..." he closed his eyes, "I'll take them."

Molly let out a relieved sob and wrapped her arms around him careful not to smother him, "Thank you. I promise you, you won't get hooked again Sherlock." She pressed her lips into the side of his head, inhaling. He still smelt of smoke but she didn't care.

He nodded, and he too found himself crying. He tried to stem the flow of tears but he couldn't. He had his good arm wrapped around her, and shook slightly. Lestrade left to go tell the doctor.

"You're too stubborn for your own good sometimes." She mumbled against his neck. Pulling back she kissed his cheek lingering for a few moments.

He looked up at her, the oxygen mask hiding his expression. His eyes were sad, pained. He said softly "Are...are you sure Molly? I don't want to..." he searched for the right thing to say, then just looked up at her "Promise me you won't go. Promise me, please Molly, please..."

Her heart broke all over again at the look of pure openness and vulnerability. Placing both of her hands on his cheeks, she said in a choked voice "Sherlock...when I thought I was going crazy and I was positive I wasn't going to get out of that funk I was in. What did you say to me?"

"That we could get through it together" he said, a tear slipping down his cheek. He took a deep breath and said softly "Alright...alright. Okay." He glanced at the saline bag, knowing that the pain medicine would need to go through a needle before the operation, because he wasn't allowed to eat or drink.

Lestrade returned with the Doctor. Sherlock sat up, his face set and white.

She smiled softly at him before sitting on the edge of his bed watching the doctor.

"Mister Holmes," he nodded to Sherlock, and then to Molly, "Mrs. Holmes. Now this is the strongest non-addictive pain killer we have. I guarantee that you won't feel any pull towards the drug." He came and lifted Sherlock's good hand, palm side down. He sterilized the back with a wipe, "Normally I would put it through with the IV line but it would be diluted, and it's already a weak pain killer. Taking the cap off the needle he placed it on his vein, "Small scratch Mister Holmes."

Molly turned Sherlock's head so he wouldn't see the needle, trying her best to take his mind off it she stroked both of his cheeks with her thumbs while Fletcher inserted the needle and pain relief.

"All done." Checking his watch, it was 07:59 and as if on cue a nurse walked in with a small pile of things, a gown, hair net, paper underwear and compression socks. Before walking back out again Doctor Fletcher following behind.

Sherlock sighed, looking back at his hand, relieved it was over. Already, he could feel a dull numbing sensation taking over his pain. He slowly relaxed, feeling the pain relief taking over. He eyed the clothing, and groaned. He looked at Molly. "I don't want you seeing me in all that. Greg..." he looked at the man "Go get some coffee, call John, tell him what's going on. tell Mary to stop crying, and that I'm alright." he turned back to Molly "I don't want you anywhere near that operating room, not on the observation deck or anywhere where you can see it. It won't do, Molly, I don't want that image in your head."

Watching Greg go she turned back to Molly, "Nonsense, I'll help you get dressed. You'll need help getting the socks on." She quickly added when he was going to protest, "But I'll wait here with Greg while you have the operation, but I'll be there when you get into the recovery room I don't care what you say." She said defiantly.

"Molly..." he protested, feeling a definite sense of embarrassment.

"No." She held up a finger, "Now come on, sit on the edge of the bed, we'll do the socks first." She walked over to get the pile putting it on the end of the bed, grabbing the long white socks she looked at him with a raised eyebrow when she saw he hadn't moved, "Do you want Greg to come back and see you in this get up?"

He sighed, moving quickly. As she helped him into everything, complying with what she said, he felt extremely embarrassed. He wasn't used to needing help, and it occurred to him that this must've been how she had felt. When he had everything on, he sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh "I can't wait to get this over with. I look ridiculous."

Molly bit back a laugh, he did look ridiculous like he was going under cover as a dinner lady but it was all to help him. She sat down next to him adjusting his hair net a bit, "You still look beautiful to me," she kissed his shoulder through the gown.

"Liar" he laughed, or at least laughed as best he could with the damned mask on. He looked at the clock "They'll be coming to get me soon" Aside from being embarrassing, with the minor burns, putting on everything had been extremely difficult. Thankfully it hadn't been too painful because of the medication. He hated to admit how much it was helping.

"Grumpy." She muttered resting her chin on his shoulder looking up at him, "I'll be there when it's all over. You'll be groggy from the anesthetic and probably not remember me being there but I will be." She said softly playing with his hair on the back of his head.

"Alright" he said, looking at her, marveling at her faith in him, her love for him.

Doctor Fletcher walked in with a nurse and porter, as Lestrade came back with two coffees.

Fletcher smiled at the couple, "Ready?" He asked as the nurse hooked the saline bag onto the hook on the bed and the porter took the brakes off ready to move whenever.

Molly's stomach constricted, she'd hoped she would have more time with him before they took him down but it couldn't be helped.

He squeezed her hand gently and said "Don't worry about it, I'll be fine. Don't worry."

As they wheeled him away, he closed his eyes, picturing her face, remembering every detail, every part of her. He took slow, deep breaths from the oxygen mask.


	44. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Molly blew out a breath watching him go looking around not really knowing what to do with herself.

They reached the operating room, and they stopped Sherlock's bed at a station to make last minute changes. Fletcher looked down at Sherlock he already had his surgery hat on, "How are you doing Mister Holmes?" He asked placing a hand on the man shoulder.

"Fine" said Sherlock quietly "Just...I want to get this over with. I want this whole thing done" he said, sounding tired.

"That's what I'm working to," he said reassuringly. He took the oxygen mask off Sherlock and replaced it with another one, "Now this is the anesthetic, take deep breaths and count back from ten slowly for me." He patted Sherlock's shoulder, "Don't worry, you're in good hands. And don't worry about your wife, she'll be fine too."

"10...9...8...7..." the lights were fading, melting into cool darkness. Next moment, he was unconscious.

"Let's give this man the best people, we know who he is, we know what he does." Fletcher looked at his team and started.

Back in the room, Greg touched Molly's shoulder, handing her a cup of coffee "Don't worry, he'll be alright. They told me it was a relatively simple procedure. He should be back within a couple hours"

Molly smiled taking the coffee and taking a generous swig, "He'll be fine." She agreed sitting on one of the chairs, "Thank you for staying."

"Of course" he said, giving her a one armed hug "I'm always going to be your friend Molly, hell you're a sister to me. You were always there for me, even when I was a bit of a prat."

She hummed in agreement, "Some things never change do they?" Her tone was a witty one as she smiled at him, leaning into his hug.

He glanced at her "Molly..." he began, looking as though he was thinking hard about what to say, and then finally settling on a topic he knew would distract her, he asked "When you look into your future with Sherlock, what do you see?"

A smile formed on her face as her features took a far off look, "Happiness." She said simply, "He's still crime fighting, he's still driving you up the wall...but it's different, there's two rings on my finger and a ring on his, couple of children running around both with crazy curls on their heads. He's reading them stories at night and getting them off to school in the morning..." Looking at Greg, "I see a family."

"Well I think you can expect it. Never thought of Sherlock as a family man before, but the way he acts now, I see it clear as day"

"I love him Greg...so much. There's no one I can see myself marrying or starting a family with." She smiled, "I'll need your help, I won't have a clue what to with a baby. I've watched you with your girls over the years and," she paused for a second a look of admiration crossed her face, "If I can be half the parent you are I'll be happy."

He looked at her, suddenly feeling a little choked up. He cleared his throat and said softly "I'll tell you what Molly, God forbid you two have girls. Sherlock would never let them date."

She laughed and nodded, "I can't imagine what he would do the first time they bring a boy home." Molly laid her head on his shoulder, "They'll have to get through her scary Detective Inspector Uncle Greg, ex-soldier Uncle John...current soldier Uncle Noah. And the government Uncle Mycroft. God help mine and Sherlock's future daughter."

He snorted with laughter at this, imagining Mycroft as an uncle. Then part of her sentence registered with him. He looked at her, feeling touched. "You think she'll call me Uncle Greg?" his lips twitched in a smile.

"Of course she will. I'll make sure of it." She said softly, taking his hand, "Brothers of the mother are always Uncle's. Even more so you."

He grinned at her, giving her another light squeeze. He didn't know how to respond.

Conversation passed between them easily as it always did. Greg telling her how his daughters are doing with school and college, Molly in turn telling him about her first day at work.

An hour or so later she let out a groan, "I hate this...the waiting." Taking another sip of her lukewarm coffee she got up and started to pace, "Do you think it's going okay?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine" he said firmly, and then, as if on cue, a women wheeled a bed in. They had put Sherlock back into a typical hospital gown, but he was still unconscious, the oxygen mask strapped on. His hand had a fresh bandage on it.

Lestrade stood, looking at the Doctor "How did it look? Will he have full use?" he asked the questions he knew Molly wanted to know.

Molly rushed to his side as soon as they stopped the bed and got everything back in its place. She removed the hair net, knowing he would hate for Lestrade to see him in it, and put it under his bed. Stroking his hair she gave him a kiss on his forehead.

Doctor Fletcher looked at Molly. Deciding that the Detective was going to be the one asking the questions he turned to him, "It went perfectly. We got rid of all the dead tissue, which wasn't that much. Burn cases are quite up and down you never know what you'll find until you get in there." Fletcher took a breath before continuing, "I'm positive that with a little physical-therapy he'll gain full use out of the hand again. We stitched the places where we had to make incisions, by the looks of the hand now he won't need a skin grafts. The dead tissue took most of the scarring away. The only scars he will have are the ones from the incisions." Looking between Lestrade and Molly he said, "Mister Holmes is very lucky. 3-4 months tops and he'll be using his hand fully again."

Lestrade blew out a sigh of relief, turning to look at the detective. He smirked. No field work for three to four months. Knowing Sherlock, that would drive him up the wall. He'd have to keep busy in the lab.

Molly walked over and held her hand out to Doctor Fletcher, "Thank you. For everything. I know he isn't the easiest person, so…thank you."

Fletcher smiled warmly, "It's my pleasure Mrs. Holmes. I'll be back later to see how he's doing." He turned and walked out of the room.

Lestrade crossed the room and hugged Molly with a laugh "He's going to be fine! You see, everything will work out! You'll just have to drive him mad planning the wedding while he's stuck at home"

A look of horror crossed her face, "I just feel sorry for the wall..." She mumbled shaking her head she couldn't help the grin that came across her face though.

There came a sudden groan from behind them; Sherlock was stirring. He mumbled something, his eyes still closed.

Molly dashed to his side gripping his hand pressing another hand into his hair, "Shh." She murmured her voice shaking lightly in worry and excitement, "Sherlock it's Molly, you're okay."

His blue eyes flickered open. He was immediately conscious of the fact that he was on painkillers. For a fraction of a second he panicked, before remembering their earlier conversation. His mind was fogged and slow, and he tugged at the mask, pulling it down and rasping "How bad?" his voice was slow and slurred.

Smiling she stroked his cheek, his throat sounded awful, the tube they had put down it hadn't done anything to ease the smoke inhalation, "You're going to be fine. Your hand, if you're careful, will make a full recovery. They got all the dead tissue away." speaking clear and slowly knowing he was still groggy, "They had to make a few incisions around your hand but they were small and stitched back up. Those are the only scars you'll have."

He nodded, his good hand reaching up to touch her face. "I'm sorry" his eyes looked glazed and far off "Mum, I should've stopped him...please I'm sorry"

Molly glanced at Greg confused, "Sherlock, it's okay it wasn't your fault. It could never be your fault." Not really knowing what else to say, she ran her hand over his hair on his forehead in a soothing motion.

"Please...please Mum I should've called them sooner...they were too late, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...too late...but I stopped him" his voice wasn't sad anymore, it was hard and cold "I stopped him for good Mum, he's dead...dead..." Sherlock's eyes still had a glazed, far off look. They flickered closed again, and he slipped back into sleep, a troubled expression on his face.


End file.
